


Adrift on Your Silence

by Taste_is_Sweet



Series: Bond Our Souls Like Glue [12]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Julie and The Phantoms (TV), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Because Screw Both those Movies, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Gen, God I love that tag, Grief/Mourning, I Have Very Little Idea What I'm Doing, Look The Tags Have Changed, M/M, No beta we die like Sunset Curve, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Platonic Soulmates, Ray Molina Needs a Hug, Ray-Centric Until Chapter 7, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Tags May Change, Tears, The Author Regrets Everything, no beta we die by hotdogs, there is a surprising amount of crying
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:15:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 61,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29269359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taste_is_Sweet/pseuds/Taste_is_Sweet
Summary: Ray was 20 when his soulmate died. He almost didn't notice.
Relationships: Alex Mercer/Willie (Julie and The Phantoms), Background James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Flynn/Reggie Peters (Julie and The Phantoms), Julie Molina's Mother/Ray Molina, Julie Molina/Luke Patterson, Ray Molina & Reggie Peters, Ray Molina & Tony Stark, Ray Molina & Willie (Julie and The Phantoms), Ray Molina/Rose
Series: Bond Our Souls Like Glue [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/936684
Comments: 141
Kudos: 102





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Squeaky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squeaky/gifts).



> Hi, there. Thank you for checking out my fic! I don't normally post WIPs, but writing anything has been extremely hard since the beginning of 2019, and I'm hoping that posting this in chapters will help me keep up the momentum. I have also never left a WIP unfinished, so I figure that's a good incentive too. :)
> 
> By the same token, please be gentle in the comments. This is also my first fic JatP fic, so I'm feeling anxious about that as well.
> 
> I'm not entirely sure where this is going yet, but it's getting there. I hope you'll take this crazy journey with me. ♥
> 
> Many thanks to my excellent friend [Shaz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shazrolane/pseuds/Shazrolane), who's been reading this over for me and offering encouragement. :D
> 
> Finally, since most of the fics in this series have titles from songs, the title for this one comes from [Beg for Love](https://youtu.be/6hQoc4_jJXU) by The Hawk in Paris.

Ray grunted in annoyance as he read the words on his left bicep again. He rolled Willie's board side to side with his sneakered toes under the park bench, gently whapping Willie's ankles. "I don't get it. I mean, what am I even supposed to tell them? And who'm'I supposed to tell, anyway?"

Willie smirked in obviously put-on confusion and nudged him in the side. "Hey, what am I? Chopped liver?"

"Liver. Ugh!" Ray groaned theatrically, clutching his stomach to make Willie laugh. Willie's laugh was pretty awesome. "You know what I mean!"

"Yeah, I do." Willie nodded, then grinned. He rapped lightly on his grey helmet, which was on Ray's head, since Willie was letting Ray borrow it along with the skateboard. "You're supposed to find out that kind of stuff when you meet your soulmate, though. That's the exciting part!"

"It's not exciting, it's _dumb,_ " Ray groused. "'Tell your friends!'" he quoted in as dumb a voice he could manage. "Why couldn't I get something like yours? At least yours makes sense!"

Willie obligingly stretched out his left leg. The words—and there were a lot of them—were partially obscured by the cuffs of his shorts and the tops of his socks, but Ray had seen them so many times by now he knew them by heart: _I dinged your board? Dude, you ran me over!_

"Yeah, well, at least you're not gonna meet your soulmate by pancaking them." Willie smiled down at the words, his expression going wistful and a little sad. "And at least you're not gonna be ancient by the time you meet them." 

"Yeah," Ray agreed sympathetically. Ray was three when his soulmark showed up, but Willie had been _10._ Ray was 11 now, and he couldn't imagine wanting to hang out with an eight year-old. Eight year-olds were practically babies. But Willie was 18, and his soulmate, whoever they were, was eight too. Ray couldn't even imagine an age gap like that. He shuddered.

"Our soulmates suck," Ray said.

Willie laughed again, then put his hand on the top of his helmet and wiggled it a little bit, just enough to make Ray scowl. "Naw. Yours is probably just gonna be in the middle of a conversation or something. And mine…." He frowned thoughtfully, considering the words on his leg. "Well, maybe they'll be like a little brother or sister for me. That won't be so bad." He turned back to Ray, grinning. Nothing could keep Willie down for long. "Yeah! Like you!"

"I'm 11, not eight!" Ray said hotly. He yanked down his left jacket sleeve, then jammed his fists in his pockets, glaring at the pavement. "And they do so suck. They're both babies."

"Three years isn't going to be that much of a difference when you're older," Willie said.

Ray shrugged.

Willie jostled the skateboard, which made Ray's feet scoot sideways. "What's bugging you today? You've been in a bad mood since you got here."

Ray shrugged again. "It's nothing. It's just… A couple friends at school were bitching—"

"Don't swear," Willie said.

Ray gave him a flat stare. "—Were _complaining_ about how much they hate the lunches their moms make for them, and how they wish they could have the cafeteria food. And, I don't know." He sighed. "They both have cool lunchboxes."

"So…" Willie frowned. "You're sad cause they want school food? Or cause they have lunchboxes and you don't?"

"It's not that. Or…I dunno." He leaned against Willie's shoulder, which probably hurt him because of the helmet, but Willie didn't stop him. "I always get cafeteria food."

"And it's not so great, huh?" Willie nodded like he'd answered his own question. "They don't know how good they have it."

"Yeah. They have moms."

"You have a mom."

Ray nodded, scraping the helmet on Willie's Baja hoodie. "I mean, they have moms who can make them lunch. Cause they aren't at work all the time. And their dads come home and do stuff with them."

Ray's parents didn't even know he hung out at the high school with the skaters instead of going straight home. And he wasn't sure they'd care if they did.

"Oh," Willie said quietly. "Yeah. That bites. I'm sorry."

"Thanks."

Willie reached across the back of the bench to pat Ray's shoulder. "My parents kind of bite too, for what it's worth. I don't even remember my dad. And my mom's busy, like, _all_ the time. I could stay out here all night and she wouldn't notice."

"That bites too."

"Yup." Willie patted Ray's shoulder again, then sat up, all bright smiles. "But, hey! Don't knock your soulmate, right? Even if their first words to you are lame. I mean, I'm sure my soulmate would notice if I wasn't there, you know? And yours will too."

"I guess," Ray said. He was feeling down about his soulmate too, which was why he'd been bitch…Why he'd been complaining about the words in the first place.

He didn't even know what he was upset about, really. It was just that, Willie had been on his board when Ray came by, so it'd been easy for Ray to see Willie's words again. And it just seemed so unfair. 

Willie was _Ray's_ friend. He was the one teenager at the high school who'd skated over to say "hi", instead of ignoring the scrawny kid gawking at the tricks they were doing. And he'd been teaching Ray how to skate. Ray was saving his allowance for his own board, but until then Willie didn't mind lending him his.

Willie listened when Ray told him about his stupid homework and his stupid teachers and his stupid parents who were never home and who thought the art class Ray loved was a waste of time. And Willie called Ray, "Ray", which sounded grownup and cool, instead of "Raymundo", which always made him feel like he should be in church. And Willie never treated Ray like he was a nobody just cause he was a kid. And he always seemed happy to see him.

But one day Willie was going to have a soulmate who was even younger than Ray. And Willie probably wouldn't want more than one kid to teach how to skateboard. And then Ray wouldn't have anything to do after school but go home to his empty house.

He rolled Willie's board side to side. "You're probably gonna want to teach them how to skateboard," he mumbled.

Willie shrugged. "I guess? I mean, maybe they'll know already." He grinned. "That'd be pretty rad, actually."

"I meant, instead of me," Ray said to the tops of his dirty Converse All Stars.

"What?" Willie stared at him. "Why wouldn't I want to teach you anymore?"

"Cause I'm not your soulmate," Ray said. He did not add the "duh", because he wasn't actually mad at Willie; just the world. 

"You're still my friend!" Willie still looked like he didn't understand what Ray was talking about, which was both nice and frustrating. "I'm not going to ditch my friends just 'cause I got a soulmate!"

"Why wouldn't you?" Ray sat up straight so he could look at Willie's face. "They're your soulmate! They're better than regular friends."

He didn't really know if that was true, but it sounded right. His mom had tried to explain once, but her soulmate had died before she could meet them, and his dad just never had one. Some people didn't. But all she'd been able to tell Ray was, "They will be the one person who understands you better than anyone else. The one person who will love you no matter what, and never, every leave you." 

Now he wasn't a little kid anymore, Ray sometimes thought maybe she'd just said what she _wished_ soulmates were, instead of what they actually were. It wasn't like she could know.

That didn't mean she was wrong, though.

But, "I don't think they're better," Willie said slowly, like he was thinking about it. "More…intense, maybe? Like, they'd be the one person who _gets_ you, no matter what. You know?"

Ray nodded miserably. Willie was that for him.

"But that doesn't mean other people can't get you, too. I mean, all those guys out there?" He made a wide gesture like he was showing off the six other skaters still riding around the parking lot. A couple were practicing jumps off the front steps. Ray knew most of them pretty well by now, even if they weren't all that friendly. "They all get me, too. Like, they're still my buds, even if none of them are my soulmate. We hang together, goof off, go to movies…" He pointed at one guy who was sprawled spectacularly on the concrete after missing his landing. "Once Shep's out of school, we're all gonna take a road trip to Florida, check out the Kona skatepark." His eyes went a little distant as he imagined it, before he grinned at Ray. "See? You don't have to be soulmates to be friends."

"Okay," Ray said. He smiled, though he was sure it looked weak. He was relieved, but only a little bit. "I wish I could go to Florida."

"I'll take you when your older," Willie said.

Ray gasped. "Really?"

"Yeah. Sure." Willie gave another of his easy laughs. "Gotta do a road trip with my honorary little brother, right? Here." He turned his hand up, fisted except for his pointed index finger. "Promise."

Ray wasn't sure what he meant for a moment, then figured it out and wrapped his index finger around Willie's, laughing as Willie did the same. It was like they were linked together.

"You and me, bud," Willie said. "Soulmate or no soulmate."

"Soulmate or no soulmate," Ray repeated. He grinned easily, happy and relieved.

"That's right." Willie squeezed Ray's finger softly with his before letting go. "Now, you wanna finally get on that board?

"For sure." Ray scrambled up, then nearly fell on his butt when the board he'd forgotten about shot away from him.

Willie caught him.

* * *

The next day, Ray had lots of homework, so he had to go straight home instead of stopping at the school. And the day after that, none of the skaters were there.

Three days after his lesson with Willie, Ray asked the other boy, Shep, where he was. And found out Willie had been hit by a truck two days before. He was dead.

Ray never got on a skateboard again.

* * *

Alex was born with a soulmark that looped around his right shoulder and down his side. It read, _Aw, you dinged my board!_

One night, when he was eight years old, he was in his bathroom, showering after a baseball game. He hated Little League, but his parents said team sports would help with his anxiety. It made it worse, but when he told them that they said he wasn't trying hard enough.

That evening, he'd tried so hard he scraped up his leg sliding into third base. He regretted it, since he'd been out anyway and now he had to wash the scrape, and it stung. But he was way too old for his mommy to help him get clean, and he was used to looking after himself anyway.

So he saw his words in the foggy mirror as he was drying himself. He was trying not to trip on the enormous, heavy towel so he didn't really see anything weird at first. But when he was yanking the towel up to his hair, he noticed his words weren't the deep, glossy black they should be. And as he watched, puzzled, they got less and less black, until they were a grey so light he could barely see them.

That was when Alex got scared. He didn't know what the fading meant, but he knew, somehow, that it was bad. His parents' words were deep, shiny black, just like all his friends'. Like his.

No, like his had _been._ The only person he knew with a faded soulmark was his grandma. And now he had one too.

Alex started screaming: "Mommy! _Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!_ " 

He must have sounded like he was dying, because his mommy flung the bathroom door open and ran in, despite how she'd been super careful not to see him naked since he was five. And his daddy was right behind her.

"Alex! Alex! What is it? What's wrong? What—" She saw his words and she gasped, then slapped her hand over her mouth. "Oh, no," she said. "Oh, no. Oh, my God. Alex. My poor baby." She started to cry, then dropped to her knees and pulled him into her arms.

That was so terrifying Alex began crying too.

Alex clung to her, sobbing. "What happened to them?" he wailed. He meant his words, but deep down he knew he really meant the person who would say them. Because even his dad, still standing in the doorway, had tears in his eyes. His dad never cried about anything.

"They're gone, Alex." His mother sniffed, then held him tighter. "I'm so sorry. They're gone. You can't… Your soulmate is gone, Alex. I'm so sorry."

"They died?" Alex asked between his sobbing. Because he was old enough to know what _gone_ meant. It was like _passed._ It was supposed to mean the person was in heaven, but everyone was really sad anyway. 

"Yes. They died. I'm sorry," his dad said. He didn't even tell Alex not to cry.

"No. Oh, no." That was all Alex could manage before he was crying so hard he could barely breathe. His soulmate was dead. The one special person who would love him like his mommy loved his daddy. The boy (he knew it would be a boy) who his mommy had sighed about being "a hippie surfer," but still promised would be Alex's best friend. "Like brothers," she'd said, because she was sure his soulmate would be a boy too.

Alex would never have a brother now.

He cried in his mommy's arms for a long time, and his daddy let him.

(That wasn't the last time Alex's heart would break, but it was the last time his parents would comfort him.)

* * *

It would take years before Alex was able to admit to himself that he and his male soulmate wouldn't have been "like brothers." He and his soulmate would have fallen in love, like Alex's parents did.

Somehow, knowing his parents would have never accepted his soulmate made losing him even worse.  


* * *

Ray never got on a skateboard again, and he didn't go back to the high school until he was a freshman there and couldn't avoid it. And he never told his parents about his older best friend, because they would've been angry at him for staying late after school.

They noticed how withdrawn and angry he was, but chalked it up to him being an adolescent. Adolescents were always a little crazy.

Ray didn't think he was crazy. But sometimes, he could swear he heard the rattling of board trucks, like someone was barreling along the sidewalk beside him. Or he was sure he could hear Willie's bright, infectious laughing. Or sometimes, when he was almost asleep, Ray thought maybe someone called his name. The voice always sounded like Willie.

Ray didn't believe in ghosts—not that Willie would've been one anyway; Willie was in heaven—and even if Ray was so angry he occasionally imagined burning his house down, it wasn't like he'd ever actually do it. 

He wasn't crazy, even if he was imagining Willie all over the place. He just really missed his friend.

And, honestly? If it meant he could pretend Willie was still with him, instead of looking benignly down from heaven? Then bring it on.

Hell, he _liked_ it. He would talk to Willie all the time when he was alone: telling him about school; or his other friends; or the girls who were suddenly more interesting; or the latest fight with his parents because he wasn't doing well in science or math.

Maybe it was crazy, but Ray didn't care. It helped, pretending Willie wasn't really gone. And how could something be bad if it helped?

Ray still heard the skateboard, anyway. And every so often he'd be so sure he'd just heard Willie's voice that he'd turn to look. He never saw him, of course. There was never anyone there.

Ray kept looking anyway.

* * *

Luke never got any soulmarks. He was mostly cool with it. Not everybody had them, that was just the way it was. So he'd never meet anyone who got him the way soulmates were supposed to understand each other, so what? He had Reggie and Alex, and there was no way he could love his friends more, even if he did have whatever dopey first words they'd said as tattoos.

Besides, Reggie's parents were soulmates, and they fought all the time. Like, they knew each other so well they ended up hating each other. Familiarity bred contempt, after all. Everybody knew that.

Luke's parents weren't soulmates, and they got along great, no prob. Just, not so much with him.

And not having a soulmate meant he never had to risk the words fading out on him. He'd seen the words on Alex's shoulder and side, and how Alex would rub his fingers up and down them sometimes, when he thought nobody was looking. And how every time he did, his expression would collapse into the kind of pain Luke never wanted to feel ever.

And he'd seen the way Alex looked at Reggie's words, and how Alex's eyes would go dark with sorrow and longing.

Yeah. No thanks. Luke had his friends, and he had his music. He could do without a soulmate just fine.

* * *

Reggie's words were on the outside of his left arm, which made them hard to read. And they were kind of weird, too: _Oh, my God. How is this possible?_ Like his soulmate was totally weirded out by it.

Bizarre. 

Alex joked it was because Reggie's soulmate would be so upset it was him, they wouldn't be able to handle it. Alex was a real jerk sometimes.

Then again, Alex's soulmate died when he was a little kid, so he was kind of a sourpuss about the whole thing. Reggie didn't hold it against him.

Luke figured it was cause Sunset Curve would be world famous by then, so Reggie's soulmate would be too blown away by having Reggie's words to believe it.

Reggie went with that one, cause it was way better than what ol' Sourpuss said. He tried to always have a suave line handy, so his soulmate would know it was him. Nobody wanted to meet their soulmate and say something lame, right?

Right. And that was why, while Luke was busy slobbering on his finger and sticking it in Bobby's ear, Reggie had a T-shirt, demo, _and_ a brilliant line ready for the size beautiful bartender at the Orpheum. She didn't react like she was his soulmate, tragically, but that was fine.

Reggie's words were still dark, shiny black. And after tonight, Sunset Curve would be on the way to world fame for sure. He'd have lots of opportunity to blow away his soulmate when he met them.

He had plenty of time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Yeah, so. I think…I think we need to talk."_

Ray was 20 when his soulmate died. He almost didn't notice.

He was in line for the Orpheum, tapping his toes and shifting restlessly, humming quietly to himself. He wasn't all that interested in the band playing that night—he didn't know anything about them to be interested—but Rose would be bartending, and he was extremely interested in spending more time with her. The Orpheum had pretty good music anyway, and even if he ended up hating Sunset Curve, he'd be able to talk to her while everyone else was listening to the band instead of ordering drinks. Win/Win.

He watched in silent amusement as three guys came down the alley next to the side of the building, walking shoulder-to-shoulder and with their heads down, as if trying not to be noticed. Even if it'd worked, the attempt was spoiled immediately when one of them ran up to the two girls at the end of the line, and handed them each a T-shirt and demo CD. If it wasn't already obvious this was Sunset Curve, that definitely clinched it.

The way the girls went wild at the gifts made Ray hopeful the music would at least be good tonight, even if the three bandmates were a lot younger than Ray figured they'd be. The one in the leather jacket who'd wowed the ladies looked barely old enough to shave. It was kind of weird, standing in line to see a band who were younger than he was.

The band boys crossed the intersection and went down another alley, probably going to get the Oldsmobile hotdogs before their gig.

Ray turned away when the boys were out of sight, checking his watch and sighing. He'd come early in hope of seeing Rose before the place filled up, but he obviously hadn't been nearly early enough, considering how far down he was in the line. Sunset Curve definitely had fans. 

He stretched his arms out, then bent them back behind his head, twisting from side to side. Still about forty minutes to wait before they even opened the doors, and given the line, he'd probably be S.O.L. to get near the bar. He had a brief thought about bailing on the whole thing, but he really wanted to see Rose.

Ray was considering getting an Oldsmobile hotdog himself, wondering if the girls behind him would save his spot if he offered to bring them some, when an ambulance rolled out of the same alley as Sunset Curve, then went across the street. The sirens whooped a couple times then stopped, as if the paramedics weren't sure how bad the emergency was. 

That was a little weird. It would've made more sense for the ambulance to come right down Sunset Boulevard. Then again, there was a lot of traffic tonight. Maybe they were in a hurry.

Ray shrugged, then frowned, looking in the direction the ambulance had gone again. The three bandmates hadn't come back yet. It didn't take that long to eat hotdogs.

"That's stupid," he murmured. It was barely 8:40 p.m. on a Thursday night. What could have happened to them in the last twenty minutes? The ambulance's direction was a coincidence. Sunset Curve was fine.

Still.

Ray casually slid off his jacket—black leather, like the band member handing out the shirts—then pushed up his sleeve to check his soulmark. There was no reason to do that. Ray was very aware there was no reason to do that. But he'd gotten into the habit after Willie died, and now he couldn't stop.

He'd never asked his mother how it'd felt, that moment she saw the greyed out words on the back of her hand, but he never forgot the pain in her eyes every time she looked at them. And then Willie died, and tangled like barbed wire with Ray's grief, was a terrible question: What had happened to Willie's soulmate, in the moment half his future disappeared?

So Ray checked his soulmarks whenever he heard a siren. Just in case. It was a habit; he never actually expected his words to look any different. 

Ray just glanced at them, smiling in fond annoyance at the _Tell your friends!_ running along his bicep the way he had for years. He was shrugging his jacket back on when his brain caught up to his eyes.

The words looked different.

Ray froze, then slowly lowered his jacket again, pulling his left arm out of the sleeve. It was fine. The words were fine. He was just thinking about the ambulance and his mom and Willie and he'd only glanced at the words, before. Of course they'd look less black in the light—

It wasn't the light. _Tell your friends!_ wasn't glossy black anymore. It was matte grey, and fading.

The noise that crawled out of Ray's throat was too choked with horror to be a scream. "No. No, no, no. No!" He rubbed at his arm, as if that would fix it, but it just turned the skin red. The grey kept fading.

The ambulance.

Frantic, Ray whirled towards the street. That was his soulmate. Had to be. The timing was too close. And they were dying. His stupid _Tell your friends!_ soulmate was dying. Just like Willie died on his soulmate. Just like his mom's soulmate died on her. Ray would never get to meet them.

He dropped his jacket and bolted into the intersection.

He wasn't thinking about the cars. The screech of hot tires meant nothing until he heard a _BANG!_ and suddenly he was staring up at the night sky, in too much pain to breathe.

There was a dim, distant sound of skateboard trucks, rolling away.

A moment later he was surrounded by car doors slamming, and then voices.

"Jeez, kid, are you all right?"  
"He came out of nowhere! If the car hadn't turned—"  
"I didn't even see him! Jesus Christ, I didn't see him! Kid, are you okay?"  
"He's had the wind knocked out of him. Help me get his knees up."

Hands grabbed him by the shoulders and under his knees and bent them towards his chest. That helped. Gradually the pain in his chest eased, and he was able to suck in more than just knife stabs of air.

"Let…let me up," he gasped.

The same hands lifted him until he was sitting on the pavement. Now he could breathe, he was aware of deeper, angrier pain, spreading in a wave up from his left hip and down from his right shoulder and side. 

"I swear to God, the car braked and turned by itself. I have no idea what happened."

"Sounds like a miracle."

"No such thing. Hey, kid. How you doing? You need a hospital? I think we should take him to a hospital."

Ray blinked at the man kneeling in front of him. He had black hair and deep brown eyes, and looked barely older than Ray, considering he kept calling him "kid". He looked familiar, like maybe Ray had seen him around campus.

He wasn't important. "My soulmate!" Ray heaved himself up onto his knees, only to fall back against the people helping him as pain clawed up his side.

"Whoa! Take it easy, Roadrunner. You got dinged pretty bad."

Ray ignored him. "Help me!" He was still trying to get to his feet. "Help me, please! My soulmate—" He looked at his left arm, desperately hoping he was wrong, that he'd almost accidentally killed himself for nothing.

 _Tell your friends!_ was so light grey he could barely read it.

Ray cried out, then slipped back to his knees. It jarred a new blast of pain up his side, but it was nothing compared to the agony of shock and grief tearing through him. A sob punched its way out of his chest, and then he was crying like a child in the middle of the street, surrounded by strangers.

"What happened?" The man with him demanded. He took Ray's wrist, but let go immediately when Ray wrenched his arm away. "Holy shit. Did your words just grey out? Happy," he said to someone behind Ray's shoulder, "did his words just grey out? Did we…Did I—"

"I didn't see his words. But, it's just this guy. Nobody else," Happy said.

The younger man all but collapsed in relief. "Thank Christ. I really didn't need to miss a concert cause I killed someone, you know?" He turned back to Ray before his friend Happy could respond to that. "Look. I know you don't know me from Adam, and I nearly hit you—though to be fair you did run right out in front of my car—but you've just taken a couple massive hits. Like, literally. I really think you need to go to a hospital."

"No," Ray sobbed. "No. I have…I have to find them. They…"

"Hey. Hey." The man put his hand on the back of Ray's neck, then pulled him against his body.

Ray lifted his hands to fight, but ended up clinging to him instead, weeping.

"We'll find them. I promise. We'll find them and figure out what happened. But you just got sideswiped by a limo and flew about five feet. And…And I really think your soulmate would want to make sure you were okay."

"My soulmate's dead," Ray ground out.

"I know." The blunt words were painfully sympathetic. "There's nothing we can do for them right now. Please let me make sure you don't die too."

Ray didn't know what his soulmate would want. But he thought about Willie, and he nodded. Happy and the young man who'd apparently hit him lifted him to his feet, and helped him limp to their car. He'd seen plenty of limousines around Hollywood, but he'd never been this close to one before. It looked like a metal box on wheels.

His body had left a dent in the rear door.

Happy—A large, solid man who seemed to work for the other one—opened the door and they both settled Ray inside. There was enough room for him to lay his whole body down on the seat. The younger man sat across from him.

"Normally I'd be driving, but…." He shrugged.

Ray just closed his eyes.

As they pulled away from the scene, Ray heard the nearby wail of an ambulance siren, but by the time he was able to sit up it had long since disappeared.

* * *

"Yeah, so. I think…I think we need to talk."

Ray let out a heavy exhale, not bothering to lift his gaze from his left arm. He wasn't sure what time it was, other than day. It felt like the pale grey of the letters had seeped into his soul. "I told you already. I was trying to get to my soulmate, not kill myself. You don't need to keep me here."

"That's great to hear, especially since I'm the guy who nearly killed you. But that's not actually what we need to talk about."

Ray blinked and looked up, wiping his eyes.

The same man who had helped him off the sidewalk the night before was in Ray's hospital room, standing with one hand in the pocket of his tight black jeans, and the other tapping a folded newspaper anxiously against his thigh. It was the same outfit he'd been in the night before; Ray recognized the AC/DC shirt. 

The guy winced when he saw the tears on Ray's face, then quickly schooled his expression. "Hey." He lifted his free hand and wiggled his fingers. He looked like someone who wasn't used to feeling nervous or out of place, and was feeling both deeply. "How are you doing?"

Ray shrugged, which hurt his right shoulder and side. "I have a cracked rib and a lot of bruises. And my soulmate is dead. I've been better." He supposed his smile was both too wet and too bitter to qualify as one.

"Yeah, I bet," the other man said on a breath.

"Where are my parents?" They'd come to see him at some point in the very early morning. Ray couldn't remember the last time his mom had been that distraught. Everyone seemed to think he'd seen his words fade and instantly decided to commit suicide. So far it'd been difficult to convince them otherwise.

"Oh! Uh, they're getting coffee. In the cafeteria. You're mom's really nice, by the way. She told me about her soulmate. I guess because of, uh…" He made a vague gesture at his left arm with the newspaper.

"I'm sorry I ran in front of your car." It was true, but Ray said it mostly in hopes it would get rid of him. It'd been hard enough dealing with his parents' freaking out about him, let alone the doctors' misplaced concern. It was kind of amazing how willing everyone was to assume malice, even self-directed malice, over stupidity. He took a breath. "Are you going to sue?" That had been what his father was most worried about. He was actually the only one who'd believed Ray, probably because his imagination didn't extend far enough to include suicide. His father's life philosophy was _grin and bear it_ , only without the grinning.

"What?" The man looked confused, then a little insulted. "No! Jesus, why would I do that? It was an accident. You were…" He gestured at his arm again. "Upset."

Ray scrubbed his face. "Then, if you don't mind my asking,"—not that he cared if the guy did—"why are you here?"

"Oh, yeah. The thing." The man took a deep breath, like he was steeling himself. He started tapping the paper against his right palm. "I, um, got a visit, a couple hours ago. From an organization made up of a lot of letters that I hadn't previously known existed. Think F.B.I., but with a way dumber name."

Ray stared in shock. "About _me?_ "

"No." The man shook his head and Ray let out a sigh of relief. "About _me._ See, uh…" He grimaced. "I know what happened to your soulmate. And…it's kind of my fault."

"What?" Rage burst inside Ray in a sudden, startling blast of acid and heat. "What do you mean, 'it's your fault'? They're dead because of you?"

"They're dead instead of me," the man said.

Ray swallowed. Knowing that helped bank his anger. A little bit. It was still there, smoldering. "I don't understand."

"Look. It's a long story, and a really bad night." He grimaced again. "Well, I guess you'd know that better than I would." He gestured at the chairs next to the wall with the paper. "Can I sit down?"

"Sure," Ray said tightly.

"Great. Thanks." The man grabbed a chair, pulled it up to Ray's bedside, and sat. He leaned forward with his forearms on his thighs, wringing the paper in his hands. "Okay. So. You know who I am, right?"

Ray blinked. "No."

The man blinked back at him. "Really? Oh, wow. That'll make this a little harder, then. Um, have you ever heard of Stark Industries?"

Ray blinked again, then frowned. "Yeah, sure. I used to have one of their game consoles."

"Ouch. My condolences." The guy rubbed his chin, then twisted his mouth into something like a smugly apologetic smile. "Well, the thing is, I'm Tony Stark."

"Oh." Tony looked a lot younger in person than on the _Time_ magazine cover on the coffee table at Ray's parents' house. "Why were you driving your own limo?" It was a ridiculous question, considering, but the first thing that popped into Ray's head.

Tony, however, seemed to find it completely reasonable. He shrugged. "I like driving?" He straightened, settling a little more comfortably in the chair. He went back to tapping the newspaper on his leg. "All right. So, Tony Stark. Current owner and C.E.O.—sorta—of Stark Industries. You can probably imagine that lots and lots of people want me dead."

Ray could pretty easily imagine people wanting to hit Tony after spending more than a few minutes with him. But definitely not kill him. "Why?"

Tony bit his lip, looking away as he worried it, as if he wasn't entirely sure of the answer himself. "Well, for starters, S.I. is a lot better at building weapons than game consoles. I wish we built more game consoles, personally. But, you know how it is: you gotta go where the money is. And what we do keeps American soldiers safe. But, there a lot of people out there who don't care about that part. They're just pissed that this huge, worldwide company is making weapons. And sometimes, some of them get pissed enough, they try to kill me."

The hot, acid anger flared. Ray shoved it aside. "You're not my soulmate, though. So what does this have to do with them?"

Tony shook his head. "You're right. I'm not your soulmate." For a moment regret flashed through his eyes, which Ray didn't understand. Tony held out the paper. "But, um." He swallowed. "He was collateral damage. And I'm really sorry."

"'He'?" Ray opened the paper without waiting for an answer. The paper Tony gave him had already been folded around the article Ray was meant to read:

**Three local teens die in alarming food poisoning accident.**

It was a short, one column article without much information, other than the names of the boys, their ages, and how they were three quarters of the band Sunset Curve. The Oldsmobile hotdog stand was no longer there, the owner facing charges for multiple food safety violations.

Luke Patterson, Alex Mercer and Reginald Peters. He wondered which one had been the boy in the black leather jacket, or the tall blond in the backwards baseball cap, or the one in the blue hoodie. He wondered which one had been his soulmate; what he would have said to them. Now he'd never know.

All three boys were 17. It made Ray think of Willie, how he'd assumed his soulmate would be like a younger sibling.

Maybe Willie would look after Ray's soulmate in heaven.

Tony sat there quietly while Ray cried some more. He supposed, dimly, that someday it wouldn't hurt this much, but right now he felt like a bottomless well; a human-shaped ocean of tears. Maybe this was what his mom had felt like when her soulmate died. No wonder she almost never talked about it. The worst part was the not knowing: the potential that would never, ever be fulfilled. 

"Thanks," he managed when Tony wordlessly handed him a box of tissues from the nearby sink, but it took a couple of minutes before he was under enough control to speak again. "I don't understand. It says they died of food poisoning."

"Yeah. That's what it _says._ " Tony arched his eyebrows. "But when's the last time you heard about anyone dying of food poisoning within half an hour? Your words." Tony gestured at Ray's left arm. "They faded while you were in line at the Orpheum. Your soulmate was most likely in that ambulance, right? That's why you were running across the street?"

Ray nodded. He swallowed. "Yeah. It…it felt like just a few minutes."

Tony nodded. "It was a few minutes. Hence my Oh-dark-early alphabet agency visit. That wasn't food poisoning. That was _poison_ poisoning. They're sure I was the target, and Sunset Curve just had really, really bad timing."

Ray gritted his teeth so he wouldn't start crying again. "Why?"

Tony's smirk sounded like a knife, directed inward. "Because I'm a fucking metrosexual, Gen-X asshole who's been going to the Orpheum every fucking Thursday night for nearly a year." He smirked again, only this time it was wet. Tony thumbed tears out of his eyes. "And I always have a disgusting Oldsmobile hotdog before the show. And I always get three dogs. One for my bodyguard, and two for me. Only last night, I was late. And three kids died because they were hungry. And I…." He laughed: a sickly, hysterical giggle. He squeezed his eyes shut, then wiped them with the heels of his hands. "I am so fucking sorry. It should have been me."

Ray handed him the box of tissues. "Why were you late?"

It wasn't important. But…it was also vitally important. Why hadn't Tony been there in time to prevent three deaths with his own? Ray knew how unkind the thought was, but he was no position to help it.

Tony leaned back in his chair, considering Ray for a long moment while he crumpled used tissues in his hand. "I'm going to tell you something that only three other people on the planet know. Including me. So, you know, don't spread it around."

Ray nodded.

Tony twitched a smile, then grabbed the back of his T-shirt and pulled it off over his head. He dropped it on Ray's legs, then stood up, spreading his arms to show his torso. There were two lines of text, stacked and centered across his chest:

_Mr. Stark._  
_I remember all of them._

The first one was dull, faded grey, though not as faded as Ray's. The second one was deep, glossy black, the way Ray's had been.

"Thing is, what you're seeing right now is a tad misleading," Tony said. His flippant tone was a strange contrast to the depth of pain in his eyes. "See, I was born with two sets of grey words. Two dead soulmates. Normally the lower line is faded too."

"That doesn't make any sense."

Tony snorted. "Yeah. No kidding." He grabbed his shirt and yanked it back on, still talking. "It's also pretty weird how the words are still legible, right? Like, have you ever seen that before?"

Ray waited until Tony's head popped through his collar to say, "No." His mother's soulmarks were just as faded as his.

Tony touched his nose and pointed. "Exactly. So, my whole life I've been wondering what the hell's up with that. Are these guys or gals not entirely dead? Are they zombies? Trapped in another dimension? In suspended animation? Who the hell knows, right?" He ran his fingers through his hair, leaving it more of a tangled mess removing and replacing his shirt did.

"But some of your words are black," Ray said.

"Yeah." Tony put his hands on his hips. "And I also said they started out grey, remember? Keep up, here. There'll be a quiz later. But, the only other time they went black like this, was in December, 1991. About 20 hours before my parents died in a freak car accident. And then they went grey again about 16 hours afterwards. And they stayed grey until about 17 hours ago."

"You mean…." Ray frowns; he doesn't know what that means. All he can think of is his own soulmate: one of three boys so undeniably dead. "Your soulmate was there? When they died?"

Tony took a breath. "I think they killed them."

Ray would have bolted upright, if moving at all hadn't hurt so damn much. " _What?_ "

"Yeah." Tony nodded, completely serious. He tapped his chest where the _I remember all of them_ was hidden. "I mean, sure. Maybe they're talking about James Bond movies. Or Iron Maiden albums. Or Santa's reindeer. Maybe it's totally innocent. But now my words have gone black twice, and each time somebody's died. And the first time it was my parents, and this time it should've been me. And all I can think is, my soulmate is remembering where they buried the bodies."

Ray sank back against the elevated headrest, heart hammering. "But…they're your _soulmate._ "

"I know," Tony said, rough. "And ironically, I'm pretty sure that's why I'm not dead. Because my words showed up, and I ended up spending, like, three hours arguing with my bodyguard about going to the Orpheum. That's irony, right? I'm pretty sure that's irony."

"But they're your soulmate," Ray repeated. Soulmates were supposed to understand you like no one else. Love you no matter what. He remembered Willie's confidence about that, his own mother's certainty. How could you have that kind of harmony with someone only to be killed by them?

Tony shrugged. "You really think that's a detriment? I'm far from the only person who got offed by their soulmate. I'd just be the only one with a soulmate who apparently came back from the dead for the privilege." He rubbed his chest where his soulmarks were, like they hurt.

"But… If…if you knew that…if you knew what might happen, why did you come?"

Tony shrugged again, but he turned his head, studying the far wall. "I'm a scientist. Let's say curiosity overrode my self preservation. And it's my _soulmate._ The only one I have left. More or less." He turned back to Ray. "Wouldn't you want to know? Even if you hate them? Even if they might kill you?"

Ray looked down at his left arm again, the _Tell your friends!_ that was barely more than an outline. "Yeah," he said softly. "Yeah. I would."

"Well, there you go." Tony sat in his chair again and slumped, defeated. "Me too." He scrubbed his face. "But I was too late. And now your soulmate and two other boys are dead. And I will never forgive myself. Or my soulmate. I hate them so fucking much. But I should've been there. And I can't forgive myself for that."

"It wasn't your fault," Ray said.

"Wasn't it?" Tony asked him, deceptively mild. "Your soulmate died instead of me."

"He died because of your soulmate," Ray said.

Tony smirked mirthlessly, looking down at his clasped hands. "Not sure that counts as a difference."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need to give credit to my awesome sister [Squeaky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squeaky/pseuds/Squeaky/works), because my headcanon that the boys accidentally were given poison meant for Tony Stark comes from a conversation I had with her. I can't remember if she suggested it first, but it was too awesome an idea not to run with it.
> 
> She is currently posting a really fantastic AU where Julie, Flynn and Sunset Curve have superpowers. If you haven't yet, I HIGHLY RECOMMEND you check it out.
> 
> This, unfortunately, is likely the end of the daily updates (I'm sorry). However, I spent most of today figuring out what's happening next, so all I have to do now is write it. ::laughs in anxiety::


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"You sure everything's all right, though? You look like you've seen a ghost."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to thank everyone who has commented on this fic, bookmarked it, and/or left kudos. I'm still anxious about this fic, so I really appreciate it. ♥
> 
> I also want to thank my sister [Squeaky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squeaky) again, for her continuing encouragement and suggestions. She also gave me a really great idea which I will add to the next chapter. Do yourself a favor and read her [JatP fics.](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squeaky/works?fandom_id=47174995) They are awesome.
> 
> Yes, the tags have changed. xD And will continue to do so, I am certain.

A few weeks after being released from the hospital, Ray's dad told him Tony Stark personally paid the entire bill.

Ray was thankful, of course. Especially since the accident had been entirely his fault. He vaguely thought about sending some kind of thank-you, but….

It was _Tony Stark_. Sure, Stark Industries had a generic "Contact Us!" post- and email address, but there was no way Tony would see that. And hell, after everything Tony had told him, Ray wouldn't have been surprised if Tony never wanted to see him again anyway. God knew Ray wasn't sure he wanted that kind of reminder of his loss himself. Part of him still resented Tony being alive when Ray's soulmate wasn't, no matter how guilty it made him feel. And writing thank-you letters took more energy than Ray had. He'd lost his soulmate, which was just as bad as losing Willie had been.

Ray might have been painfully familiar with how efficiently grief pared you down, but that didn't make it easier.

Mostly, he tried not to think about that night, or the soulmate he'd never meet, or the skateboard trucks he'd heard, rolling away. 

On his good days, Ray was grateful to be alive. On his bad days, he wasn't. He wouldn't have to feel like this if Tony Stark's limo had hit him.

Ray didn’t think like that too often, though. He had Rose, and he couldn't stand the idea of leaving her, no matter how low he felt.

Rose didn't have a soulmate, but she didn't mind. She said it meant her soulmate could be anyone in the world. It reminded Ray of what Willie had told him: how you loved a soulmate differently, but not more than anyone else.

Rose didn't get photography the way Ray did, just like he didn't quite understand the depth of her love for music. But she loved seeing his photographs as much as he loved listening to her songs. And if the bridge between audible and visual couldn't be entirely crossed, they did their best to meet in the middle.

More often than not, that meant Ray waving and bouncing along in no particular rhythm while Rose sang her heart out with the Petal Pushers. Or Rose letting Ray drag her around the student photography exhibits, explaining about lighting techniques and lens sizes until her eyes glazed over.

If that wasn't love, Ray didn't know what would be.

They weren't soulmates, but Ray figured they were about as close as two people could get without each others' words on their skin. Ray loved her more than anyone.

It helped. It helped a lot. Most of the time, that was enough.

* * *

The hospital chapel was small, with rounded, dull tan walls and a shabby altar at the front. The pews were worn smooth on the seats but Ray had to be careful of the splinters on the edges. It was easy to imagined decades' worth of knocks from people unsteady with grief, worry or exhaustion.

All the same, the place had a soft, ragged dignity that offered a welcome relief from the constant noise and movement outside.

Ray considered, then sat one row back from the front, in the middle of the pew. No point in hiding when you were already in God's presence.

He signed the cross, then clasped his hands and bowed his head, but then grimaced and looked up again. Supplication felt too formal for this comfortably worn space. He settled for loosely clasping the back of the pew in front of him. 

Ray licked his lips, then swallowed. "Hey, Willie," he said quietly. "I don't know if you're Catholic, but in my religion it's okay to pray to the souls of our loved ones. And, well. You were my best friend. And…" He pressed his lips together and shut his eyes, then took a breath. "And my baby girl was born today." He grinned, though he couldn't help the sadness in it now, just like he couldn't help the sadness beneath his joy when he'd met his daughter for the first time. "I am so thankful for her. She's so strong, and healthy and beautiful." He smirked. "I didn't know babies could scream that loudly. You would've been impressed. I think she's going to be a singer, like her mom." He swallowed, smile falling completely. "But, her soulmate is dead. She was born with faded words, Willie. They look just like mine.

"And…I don't understand. I just…why did that have to happen to her? She's just a baby! What could she have done, that—" His voice broke, and when he squeezed his eyes shut tears ran down his cheeks. "She's just a baby," he said again. "She doesn't deserve to…to have this constant weight in her heart. Why couldn't she just have no soulmate at all? Rose doesn't have one. The only one in her family with a soulmate is her sister. So why….

"I'm sorry," he said, voice trembling. "I'm sorry. I know…I know I shouldn't be like this. Today was the best of my life, until I held my brand-new baby girl and saw the little words on her leg. They say, _Well, we're all a little crazy._ " He sniffled, dredging up another smile. "Reminds me of Alice in Wonderland. But, I could barely read them."

He swallowed, then used his sleeve cuff to wipe his eyes. "I just don't understand. Why her? She's just born, and now she has to live her whole life knowing she had a soulmate, but they're gone? I don't understand. I'm trying. I'm trying so hard but I don't understand."

He grimaced and wiped his eyes again. "It's just so unfair. My mom lost her soulmate, I lost my soulmate, my _daughter_ lost her soulmate…. Maybe my family's cursed. Maybe we're not meant to have soulmates. Maybe…." He sighed, then scrubbed his face. "Maybe it's just a coincidence."

His sleeve cuffs were wet, so he used the sides of his hands. He should have taken the tissues from his wife's room; Rose wouldn't have noticed. She'd only given him a vague nod when he said he was going to the chapel, all her attention on the baby in her arms. "And Rose tried, she really did. She's so kind. But, she's tired. And it's not fair to expect her to…to sympathize with something she's never experienced. And I didn't want to start crying in front of her on such a wonderful day. But—" He clenched his teeth, trying to fight back another wave of tears. "I feel so alone, Willie. I'm so alone, and I don't know what to do."

He could have sworn he felt someone's index finger curling around his, soft and ephemeral as air.

* * *

"Okay, Mija." Ray sighed to himself as he opened the door to Julie's room, then put on a big smile for his daughter. He might be exasperated that she still wasn't sleeping, but she was only two years old. Being annoyed with her wouldn't help. "Party's over. Time for beddy-bye."

"Daddy!" Julie yelled enthusiastically, even though he'd only been gone ten minutes. She spread her little arms for a hug.

Ray gladly picked her up, dropping a kiss on her head. "What you been up to, little bug? I could hear you laughing from the living room."

"Wee-ee!" Julie exclaimed right in his ear. She pointed at her closed closet door. "Wee-ee! Wee-ee! Hi, Wee-ee!" Then she threw her head back and laughed like that was the funniest thing ever in her very short life.

Ray couldn't help chuckling with her—nothing quite as infectious as the laugh of a happy toddler—but he looked in puzzlement at the blank spot she'd been pointing at. There wasn't even a picture there. Just a white, painted door. "What's a wee-ee? You mean a wheel? Like on your cars?"

Julie had several sturdy, wooden cars and trucks to play with, as well as a plethora of toy instruments and legions of stuffed animals. But there weren't any cars in front of her closet.

" _No,_ daddy!" Julie said. She pointed again, probably thinking he was being dense on purpose. "Wee-ee. He right dere!"

"Where?" Ray walked closer, carrying Julie with him. Maybe she'd seen a bug with her keen two year-old eyesight and found it hilarious. But there was no bug, not even a blemish in the paint. "Sweetheart, I can't see anything."

"He right dere!" Julie said, miffed now. She reached out and patted the air in front of the door. "Wee-ee." She did it again, and apparently patting the air was also hugely entertaining, because she started laughing again. "Pattemed. Pat. Pat. Pat."

"Pattem…." Ray grimaced. He was horribly aware how frustrated Julie got when adults didn't understand her, but now he was even more confused. "You're…patting…Wheelie?"

"Uh-huh." Julie nodded vigorously. She reached up and smacked Ray in the forehead a few times. "Pattemed!"

"You're patting Wheelie's head," Ray said.

Julie nodded so vigorously that time he barely avoided getting bonked on the nose. "Pattemened." She giggled. "Funny. Funny Wee-ee."

"Wee-ee," Ray murmured. He eyed the door again, a thought coalescing in his mind. One he maybe should have had earlier, but…. "You're having a good time playing with Willie, huh?" he asked his daughter, his throat suddenly a little tight.

"Uh-huh," Julie said.

"I'm glad." Ray took a step back from the door, though he didn't know if ghosts needed personal space. "I thought I was the only one who knew about him." He reached out tentatively, placing his fingertips where Julie had been patting the air. Only maybe it wasn't the air. He wondered what touching a ghost would feel like to a toddler.

Ray couldn't feel anything.

"Hi, Willie," he said, then swallowed. "Thank you for keeping Julie company, but it's bedtime now. Maybe you could come back tomorrow?"

He didn't know if he was speaking to empty air, or someone who could maybe, somehow, actually hear him.

"Bye-Bye," Julie said suddenly, waving, then sighed and leaned into Ray's shoulder.

"I'm sure you can see your friend tomorrow, little bug," Ray said. He put her down gently in her crib, made sure she had her blankie and plush microphone, then rubbed her back until she fell asleep. It didn't take long; all the laughing had tuckered her out.

Ray crept down the stairs. Rose was on the living room couch with her feet tucked up, grading school assignments. She looked up smiling when she heard Ray. "What was she laughing about?" Then she saw his face, and her expression changed immediately to concern. "What's wrong? Is Julie okay?"

"What?" Ray blinked, then shook his head. "Oh, yeah. Yeah. She's fine. She pretty much laughed herself to sleep."

"I can't get over how happy that kid is." Rose shuffled around so she could lean against Ray as soon as he sat down. "You sure everything's all right, though? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"No," Ray said, "I haven't seen anything."

* * *

Rose came down the stairs and flopped on the couch, tilting her head back and heaving a sigh of theatrical exhaustion. "Why is it that you can get our children to sleep in five minutes, and with me it takes half an hour?"

"Because you sing them to sleep, and I tell really boring stories." Ray came in from the kitchen, carrying two mugs of tea. "What was with all the laughing, anyway? Were you singing Wiggles songs again?"

"Thank you." Rose took the mug he offered her with a smile. "No. It was all Carlos. He was playing peek-a-boo with the wall again and laughing his head off."

Ray chuckled, then took a sip of his tea to hide his unease.

He'd told Rose about his friend Willie and how he'd died, but not that he was almost certain Willie's spirit had never passed on. It wasn't that he doubted Rose would believe him. It was just…he could never figure out how to bring it up. And now Julie was six and Carlos three, and they'd both gone through phases of laughing and babbling at thin air, and Ray had even less idea how to explain it might be the ghost of his childhood friend.

He knew Rose would believe him. But, it was a secret he'd carried since 1986, and it was 2011. Disclosing it now felt kind of like unearthing something strange and precious, which would disintegrate if touched by light.

So Ray just…hadn't. He agreed with Rose that children were occasionally inexplicable, and stomached the guilt at the lie.

"Well, he is your sister's soulmate. It makes sense he's a little strange," Ray said. He grinned over his mug so Rose would know he was teasing.

"My sister is not strange," Rose said, so seriously Ray was about to apologize when she grinned back at him. "She's _eccentric._ "

Ray laughed. "Okay. Sure. Carlos is a little _eccentric_ too, then."

Rose tilted her head, considering. "Yeah, he is. Maybe he'll be an actor." Her smile turned challenging. "Or an artist, like you."

"I'm just a photographer," Ray demurred, far from the first time. " _You're_ the artist."

The unimpressed look she gave him hadn't changed, no matter how old the argument. "If I can teach high school and still be an artist, then you absolutely—"

The doorbell rang.

Ray and Rose blinked at each other, then Ray sprang up to answer the door before whomever it was rang the doorbell again and woke the kids. He made sure Rose was standing back, just in case. They were in a safe neighborhood, but it was still after eight in the evening.

He flipped on the outside lights and looked through the keyhole. Then looked again, then opened the door. "Tony?"

"Hi." Tony Stark waggled his fingers. He was wearing a rumpled, stained Offspring T-shirt over grease-stained jeans. He looked remarkably similar to when Ray had last seen him, just older and far more careworn. Ray probably looked the same. Except Tony also looked like he knew exactly how unexpected his being there was, but was too stressed to care.

It wasn't actually all that different from the last time Ray had seen him in 1995.

"Uh, come in," Ray said, bewildered. He and Tony hadn't even exchanged Christmas cards. He had no idea how Tony found his house. He stood aside so Tony could enter, than locked the door behind them. "This is my wife, Rose," he added, because, "what the hell are you doing here?" was rude. "Rose, this is Tony Stark."

Rose came up and shook his hand. She was wearing pajama bottoms and an old T-shirt under one of Ray's university hoodies. She looked like a gnome, shaking the hand of one of the most powerful men in the world. In their unassuming Los Feliz living room. It was surreal.

Naturally, Rose made it seem like this kind of thing happened all the time. Then again, she taught teens for a living; she was used to weathering chaos while pretending everything was under control. "Pleased to meet you. What brings you to Los Feliz?" She gestured at the couch. "Have a seat. Would you like some tea? Ray just made it." 

"Uh, no. No tea. That's okay. I, uh." Tony glanced around their living room, looking oddly panicked, before turning to Ray. "Can we talk? I really need to talk to someone. And you are literally the only person available on the planet who I think would understand."

"Why don't you take Mr. Stark to the studio? That way you won't have to worry about waking the children," Rose offered, while Ray was mentally bluescreening on _literally the only person on the planet_.

He was a studio photographer; he was used to people being predictable. Tony Stark was the antithesis of that.

"Oh, yeah. Good idea." Ray smiled gratefully at his wife, then cupped the side of her head as he kissed her cheek. He indulged himself by sliding his fingers into her hair, since he was pretty sure that was the most intimate he'd get to be with her tonight.

She turned her head to kiss him on the lips instead. "See you soon."

He indulged himself again with one last kiss, then went to the back door, expecting Tony to follow him. He slid on his sandals, then led Tony to the studio behind their house.

Tony walked in after him, looking around and touching things. He ran his hand admiringly across the piano lid, then tilted his head back and did a slow turn, staring at the chairs stored under the ceiling. "Neat," he murmured, then looked curiously at the loft. "What's up there?"

"Just stuff from the previous owners. We'll sort through it eventually. How did you find my house?"

Tony startled. "What? Oh! You did a photoshoot for the fundraiser for the Maria Stark Memorial Hospital."

Ray blinked. "You knew about that?"

"Of course," Tony said absently. He took a breath. "Look. I know I haven't seen you since…since the intersection thing. And I know my just showing up out of the blue is weird and impolite and whatever. But, I'm serious. I wouldn't have bothered you at all, except I have nowhere else to go."

"Okay." Ray nodded, licked his lips. "Maybe we should sit—"

"I think my soulmate is Captain America," Tony said.

"What?"

"Yeah, I know. I didn't believe it either. But, look." Tony rucked up his shirt, then grimaced in annoyance and yanked it over his head, then stood wringing it in his hands. 

"What the hell happened to your _chest?_ " Ray demanded. He reached automatically to touch the circle of blue light, then whipped his hand back when Tony flinched. "Are you all right?"

"Afghanistan," Tony said, as if that was an explanation. Maybe it was—all Ray knew was that he'd been kidnapped a year earlier. "Nearly got blown up. It's keeping shrapnel out of my heart. Not actually the plotline right now. Look at my words."

Ray did. _I remember all of them_ had been partially obliterated by the hole in Tony's chest, but what remained was the same dull but not-entirely faded grey Ray remembered. But _Mr. Stark_ was dark, glossy black.

Ray stared at it, jaw hanging, then snapped his gaze back to Tony's face. "Your soulmate's _alive?_ "

"Yeah." Tony nodded, then swallowed. "It went black a few weeks ago. And at first I naturally figured, 'oh, boy. Another soulmate-assassin!' you know?" He pulled his shirt back on, then started pacing, running his hands through his already-messy hair. "But, I couldn't find any suspicious deaths. And the words didn't fade. And then I'm threatening an alien god in Germany right next to Captain America, and the first thing Steve Rogers says to me is, 'Mr. Stark', and I say, 'Captain', because God knows you need to look cool in front of your dad's homemade crush, right?" Tony laughed, and Ray remembered that hysterical sound, too. "And then he…I don't know. Gave me this _look,_ like I'd shocked him or something. But, he never said anything. And then shit happened, and then more shit happened, and now he's gone on a walkabout to look for America and I don't know what to do."

Ray knew what Tony was talking about: California basically shut down while everyone was huddled in front of their televisions, watching superheroes fight aliens in New York. For a while it had felt like the end of the world.

"I thought Steve Rogers was dead," Ray said. "I thought the Captain America out there was a new one."

Tony reached the end of his track and spun around to stalk in the opposite direction. He shook his head. "Nope. Just the one and only. And I guess that explains the not-entirely-dead stuff, since he was apparently flash frozen in the Arctic for about 70 years." He stopped walking, standing with his arms crossed. "What do I do?"

"Tell him," Ray said, because it was obvious. He realized he was rubbing his arm where his own soulmarks were beneath his shirt, and put his hands in his jeans pockets instead. He stifled the flare of jealousy he couldn't control. His soulmarks had never been more than faint grey since 1995, and never would be. It wasn't fair to begrudge Tony his miracle.

Tony shook his head violently. "No. No. Nope."

Ray frowned at him. "Why not?"

"What if he's not actually my soulmate?" Tony burst out, like he'd just been waiting for an excuse to say it. "Do you have any idea how many people call me 'Mr. Stark' on a given day? I can't get his hopes up like that. It…it'd be cruel. And, we are _entirely_ incompatible. I mean, he's got those-those angelic good looks going on, with the blond hair and the perfect teeth, and he likes making plans—who does that?—and he doesn't understand that it makes more sense to _cut_ the wire, so nobody has to lie on it—"

"Tony." Ray put his hand on Tony's arm. 

"And he told me I'm nothing without my suit, and he's right. I didn't tell him that he's right, cause he was being a dick, but he is. And I said everything special about him comes out of a bottle—"

" _Tony,_ " Ray said again. "Tony, stop. Stop. Take a breath."

Tony stopped. He looked at Ray, blinking rapidly, his eyes glistening. "What?"

"Tony, listen to me," Ray said, using the same voice as when he soothed his children. "If Steve Rogers is your soulmate, then none of the things you're worried about are going to make a difference." He smiled. "A soulmate is someone who gets you, no matter what. He won't care if you don't have the same hair color, or if you don't always see eye-to-eye. He's going to love you, always, for exactly who you are."

Tony blinked and tears ran down his face. He looked down at his battered sneakers. "It was easier when I just figured one of them would kill me."

Ray really didn't want to touch that, so he didn't. "Not what you were expecting, huh?"

Tony shook his head. "My dad compared me to Captain American my entire life, and I never measured up. And now the guy I could never measure up to is my soulmate." His smile looked more like a wince. "Go figure."

"Your dad was a jerk," Ray said simply. "If Rogers is your soulmate, then you definitely measure up. And honestly, you would anyway. You're a good man, Tony."

Tony smiled like he didn't believe it, but he finally looked up. "Thanks." He rubbed his chest, just above the circle Ray couldn't miss now that he knew to look for it. "You really think I should tell him?"

"God, Tony. If my soulmate suddenly came back? Twenty-five years after I thought he was dead?" Ray shook his head, his smile full of old pain. "There is nothing in this world that would keep me from telling him. You have no idea how lucky you are, that you have this chance."

"I don't feel lucky," Tony said. "I feel…" He swallowed. "He doesn't deserve someone like me."

It was obvious what kind of "deserve" Tony meant. "Maybe you should let Steve decide that."

Tony grimaced, then just let out a long sigh. "Okay. Yeah. Okay."

* * *

"How did it go? Where's Tony?" Rose asked when Ray plodded back into the house.

"Still in the studio. He was dead on his feet by the time we finished talking. I figured he might as well sleep there tonight." Ray yawned widely, remembering at the last second to cover his mouth.

"You look pretty dead yourself," Rose said. She wrapped her arms around him, resting her head against his shoulder. "I can't believe Tony Stark is in our studio. I can't believe you know Tony Stark."

"Me neither," Ray said honestly. "I really didn't think I'd see him again."

"He must have been upset, to come all the way out here."

"He was." Ray kissed her neck, because it was easiest to reach, then gently let her go. "It was about his soulmate. He figured I'd understand."

"Oh. That sounds like a big deal." Rose was still holding his arms, looking up at his face. "Did you understand? Were you able to help him?"

"I don't know. I think so? I hope? He has a place to sleep tonight, anyway."

Rose laughed. "Right. Because there's no way he'd be able to afford a hotel."

"Okay, fine." Ray rolled his eyes, but laughed with her. "I didn't save him from having to sleep under a bridge. But he seemed…I dunno…"

"Like someone who doesn't have anyone who'd offer him a couch," Rose finished.

"Yeah. Exactly." Ray nodded. As usual, she'd known what he meant better than he did. "And he basically said I was the only person available to talk to. Even though we barely know each other. That's really sad."

"Well, he has someone to offer him a couch now. And to talk to," Rose said. "You're a good friend, Ray Molina."

Ray shook his head. "I didn't even know we were friends."

"Congratulations." Rose leaned up and kissed his chin. "Maybe he'll invite us to some really cool parties."

* * *

Rose went to check on Tony before she left for work, but the studio was empty.

Tony had left a note behind, though, scribbled on the back of a Burger King receipt. All it said was:

_Thanks._  
_If you need anything, anything at all, call this number. It's my private line._  
_I like your couch._  
_Tony._

Rose gave Ray the note, and he folded it up and put it in the booklet where they kept their business cards. Then he put the booklet back in the drawer nearest the kitchen phone.

And he pretty much left it at that. He couldn't think of a reason he'd ever have to call Tony Stark, and nice couch or no, Ray was comfortably certain Tony's visit was a fluke. He probably wouldn't see the man again.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _This had been a bad idea._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to everyone who has left kudos and such nice comments! (And for those who have bookmarked it! I appreciate the faith!) You've all helped me a lot with my confidence, after writing so little for so long. I really appreciate it.
> 
> I have indeed changed the tags, and will again once this chapter is posted. And probably will do so again! ::Organ plays; evil villain laugh.::
> 
> I also must give big props to my sister [Squeaky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squeaky) again, for suggesting the first scene of this chapter, and being enormously helpful with the last one (and, honestly, everywhere in between). If you haven't yet, check out her JatP fics. She updates her current WIP three times a week, and the story is awesome. :D

"DAD!" Julie bellowed as she came through the front door, then saw Ray was in the living room, working at the dining room table. "Oh. Hi." She let her bag thud off her shoulder, then shoved it to the side with her foot.

"Hi." Ray got up and went to hug her. He lifted her off her feet, because her irritated "DA-aad!" was really funny. There was no point in having children if you couldn't occasionally torment them. He kissed the top of her head and put her down. "How was music practice?"

"Fine," Julie huffed, which sounded like the exact opposite of "fine". She plonked down on the couch and leaned back with a heartfelt sigh. It reminded Ray a lot of himself. "Why'd I have to be born with a dead soulmate?"

"I don't know," Ray said honestly, grateful he kept his voice steady next to the sudden, powerful banging of his heart. He'd been dreading this conversation for nine years.

He and Rose had always been honest with Julie about her soulmate. But for most of her life, a soulmate was an abstract concept she wasn't particularly interested in. She liked the idea of a best friend, but she already had Flynn and Carrie, and even Carlos, once he was old enough to play with her. She accepted that some people had best friends called soulmates, hers was in heaven, and that was that.

But Julie was older now, and soulmates were becoming interesting. And a lot of Julie's friends had soulmates, and she didn't.

Ray had tried his damnedest not to project on his daughter, but he couldn't help thinking of the pain—the weight in his heart—he'd carried ever since that night in 1995. The years had whittled it down, just like marrying Rose and having a family had. But it wasn't _gone._

It never would be gone. And Ray couldn't stand the idea of Julie feeling like that.

He went to the couch and sat near her, turning his body so he could look at her face. He made sure to keep his expression open, showing nothing of the turmoil inside. "What happened at music practice, Mija?"

Julie shrugged. "Some of the kids were talking about their soulmates after class. Susey said she was sure hers was a rich boy, and I asked her how she could know, since her words are, _Let me get that for you,_ which could be anybody."

Ray privately thought it sounded like something a bellhop would say, but he kept that to himself. "What did Susey say to you?"

"She said it wasn't my business, since my soulmate was dead so I wouldn't understand."

"Ouch," Ray said, wincing sympathetically. "That was pretty mean."

Julie shrugged. "Cassie told her not to be such a bi—" She glanced at her father and cleared her throat. "Not to be so mean about it, since it wasn't my fault. Which is true! But, why do they have to be dead? I didn't even get a chance to meet them. It's so unfair!" She slumped on the couch, crossing her arms. "I bet _they_ would've really been rich," she muttered.

"You're right. It's incredibly unfair." Ray had thought the same thing since the day Julie was born. He put his hand on her shoulder. "And I wish I could tell you why it happened. Or, why it was you instead of anyone else. But I can't. Sometimes bad things just happen, and there's no reason for it."

"Father Castillo says there's always a reason. We just can't always know it."

"That feels like kind of the same thing to me." Ray rubbed her shoulder. "Hurts either way, doesn't it?" It had certainly hurt him.

"Yeah." Julie flipped her ankle onto her opposite knee, then tugged her capris up enough to show the faded words written there. "Do you think they would've been a boy or a girl?"

"Good question." Ray bent to get a little closer, since the light grey was so hard to read. _Well, we're all a little crazy._ It was funny: the words were so frivolous and yet poetic at the same time. "I don't know. I didn't know about mine. Most of the time people don't, until they meet them." He straightened. "What do you think?"

Julie tilted her head, thinking about it. "Boy," she said, with a sturdy nod. "Boys always think they know everything."

Ray chuckled. He couldn't argue with that. "I think you're right. It's definitely the kind of thing I would have said to a pretty girl." He moved closer, so he could put his arm around her shoulders and kiss the top of her head. "I'm so sorry you won't be able to meet him."

"Me too," Julie said quietly. She leaned her head on his shoulder.

They stayed like that for a bit, each lost in their own thoughts. Ray would have to get up soon to start dinner, since Rose would still have work to do after she brought Carlos home from baseball practice. But that could wait a moment.

"Can I see your words?" Julie asked.

"Uh, sure." Ray let go of her carefully and sat upright, then pushed his T-shirt sleeve up to his shoulder and held his arm out so Julie could read them. "They look like yours."

Julie nodded. "I wish you could've met him."

"Thank you," Ray said. He pulled his arm back and dropped his sleeve. "I do too. I think about him a lot. What he would've looked like. Who he would have been." He smiled. "Why his first words to me would have been, _Tell your friends!_."

"Maybe he was going to invite you to a party," Julie said.

"Oh. Now, that's an excellent possibility," Ray said, meaning it. "I hadn't thought of that. I thought he might be handing out flyers about his next concert or something." He mimed passing out paper. "Concert tonight! Tell your friends!"

Julie laughed. "But your words don't say anything about a concert!"

"That's true. Maybe I can't hear that part, because I'm not near enough."

"Maybe." Julie snuggled closer to him

Ray put his arm around her again. One day, he knew, she'd be too old and sophisticated for cuddles, just like she rarely wanted him to tell her stories before bed anymore. He would happily soak up every second he could spend like this, while he was still allowed. "Do you want to help me make dinner? I was thinking spaghetti."

Julie tilted her head to give him a long-suffering stare. "You _really_ need to learn how to cook more stuff. Can we get pizza?"

Ray thought about it. "Sure." He grinned at Julie's happy squeal, then gladly tucked her more securely against him. "Are you okay, Mija?"

He was asking about that horrible girl Susey, but mostly about her soulmate. He was a little surprised when Julie nodded.

"Yeah, dad." She didn't smile, but there was no sorrow on her face. "I mean, I'm sad I'm not going to meet him. But, you and mom aren't soulmates, right? And you guys are happy together anyway."

"You're right, we are. I don't think I could love your mother more, even if she was my soulmate. Just like I couldn't love you or your brother more." He gave her a small squeeze. "All three of you are my heart."

Julie smiled, then. "Yeah. I don't think I could love any of you more, either. Or Flynn. So, I don't need a soulmate. Just like you and mom don't. My life is great anyway."

Ray beamed at her. "How did you get so wise, huh, Mija?" 

"I've always been wise," Julie said, deadpan. Then she squirmed out of his grip, but only so she could throw her arms around him. "I love you, Papi."

"I love you too, Mija. Now, lets go order pizza before you mother gets home and tells us we shouldn't because it's bad for us."

Julie laughed, then sprang off the couch and raced to the kitchen.

Ray followed more slowly. He was still smiling. Sometimes—not many, but some—he actually got proof he was doing something right as a parent. His daughter had just said her life was great; no parent could hope for more than that.

He rubbed his soulmarks absently, thinking of what Julie had said. She was right, of course. His life was good. It was very, very good. It was like a huge, beautiful puzzle, almost entirely complete. Except for two missing pieces.

But he was okay. He really was okay.

* * *

This had been a bad idea.

Ray glanced at Rose, sure from the brief change in her placid expression when their eyes met that she felt exactly as awkward and uncomfortable as he did: trying to make small talk with Trevor Wilson, who was apparently only interested in getting blackout drunk.

His family and Trevor's—what was left of Trevor's family—was on his back patio. They'd been invited to a barbeque, cooked by one of Trevor's chefs. Ray had actually been looking forward to it. He knew _about_ Trevor Wilson, of course; anyone Ray's age who liked rock did, but he had barely spoken to the man. They would never have crossed paths at all, except his daughter Carrie had gone to the same preschool as Julie and Flynn. That evidently had been her mother's influence, trying to raise her daughter as down-to-earth as possible.

The casual barbeque had been Tammy's idea, probably for the same reason. Ray had been eager to get to know Trevor and Tammy better, and not just because he and Rose had always loved his music. Rose always liked knowing the parents of her children's friends, and Ray agreed.

And then Tammy had abruptly walked out on her husband, and Ray had no clue why Trevor hadn't cancelled. Or had one of his many assistants do it. Right now, Ray couldn't help thinking it was just because Trevor hadn't wanted to drink himself into a stupor alone.

Ray did a quick look around for Julie, relieved to see she, Carrie and Flynn seemed to still be having a good time, sitting in Trevor's helicopter and engrossed in conversation. Carlos would've loved to see a real helicopter up close too, but Ray and Rose had wanted to give Julie some girl-time with her friends. Carlos was with his Tia for the weekend. Ray was glad for that now.

The meal wasn't finished yet, though the chef had gone from chatty to increasingly withdrawn and businesslike as the late afternoon had worn into evening, which Ray had taken as a very bad sign.

He hoped Rose could figure out some graceful way to leave, even without eating. He didn't want to disappoint the girls, but he didn't want them exposed to Trevor like this, either. Maybe he could finesse a way to take Carrie with them.

Trevor, it turned out, was a surly, angry drunk. And he just kept drinking.

"S'all th'fucken Avengers' fault. Fucken superheroes, wrecken everythin'," Trevor slurred.

He wasn't entirely wrong: Ray and Rose had watched the chaos and destruction in D.C. over the past two days, just like almost everyone in America. But Trevor seemed to be taking it personally.

Trevor grabbed the bottle of tequila in front of him and splashed a trembling, unsteady stream into the shot glass he'd refilled at least five times already. He smacked the bottle back on the table, then knocked the tequila back and grimaced it down. "Fucked up New York, fucked up England, fucken' Stark gottis house blew up, right? Fucken up D.C…" Trevor sneered at the empty glass. "Allay ever do is wreck shit. Break things. N'where's that leave us, huh? Picken uppa pieces." He switched his glare to the tequila bottle and snatched it up again. "Always picken uppa pieces." He took a swig without bothering to pour it.

Ray winced.

"Did you know anyone who was hurt in D.C.?" Rose asked. Ray was impressed she was able to sound both genuinely interested and sympathetic.

Trevor shook his head ponderously. "Nope. Tammy knew sommen fr'New York, tho. Some chick she knew fr'm high school."

"I'm sorry. That must have been terrible," Rose said.

Trevor shrugged. "Know whas terrible? Tammy went to'er funeral and know who'as there? Her best frien. Yup. Best frien forever. Only she hadn't seener in 20 years." He grinned darkly when both Ray and Rose blinked.

"Did she…cheat on you?" Ray asked, because he couldn't see how Tammy finding a friend again would be a problem. otherwise. If Rose had cheated on him and he found out three years later, he would have wanted to get blackout drunk too. Not that he would have in front of his kids.

"Nope," Trevor said again. He took another messy pull from the bottle, then wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "But they _reconnected_ , right?" He made an ugly sound nothing like a laugh. "Realllly good friens. Good, good friens. Lotsa emails an' shit. Lotsa phone calls. About how fucken great the frien's life is. And how lousy a husband I am."

Ray saw Rose grimace out of the corner of his eye. Right then Tammy's assessment seemed pretty apt.

"That must have hurt," Rose said diplomatically.

Trevor shrugged again. "I don'geddit, yaknow? I mean, lookit!" He gestured expansively, nearly flinging the bottle into the pool. "S'nize howse, right? Gotta pool, gotta helicopter…Spent Spring Break in paris widda kid…. Whasser problem?"

"It is a nice house," Ray said.

Rose opened her mouth but then closed it, likely deciding not to make a bad situation worse. She just nodded.

"Sheezmy fucken soulmate too. C'n you believe it?" He banged the table with his fist, hard enough to make the shot glass jump and fall on its side. "Fucken bitch's my soulmate! And she walked out! She jest fucken walked out! Look!" He banged the bottle onto the table, then shrugged off his open button-down and wrenched up his T-shirt before either Rose or Ray could protest, exposing his belly.

His words said, _You sure are pretty, but you're a damn liar._

"See?" he demanded. "She's my soulmate! Soulmates arent supposed t'do that!"

Ray was abruptly reminded of Tony, who had a soulmate who might have tried to kill him. "Maybe you were both just too alike?"

Rose shot him a look that was basically incredulous horror and he twitched his mouth at her in apology. 

Luckily, Trevor just snorted. "Thassa _point,_ dumbass." His bloodshot eyes moved to Ray's left arm. "Whatta yours say, anyway?"

Rose sucked in a breath, startled at how rude the request was. You didn't ask to read someone's soulmarks in general; asking to read someone's soulmarks when their soulmate was _dead_ was abhorrent.

"Trevor, that question is inappropriate," Rose said. She stood, turning to Ray. "We should go."

"Aw c'mon," Trevor said. He got up as well, lumbering closer. "Weerall friens, right? I jus wanna know."

Ray got up too, then tucked his arm closer to his side. He wasn't usually that protective, but the situation was making him uneasy as hell. "It doesn't matter. He died nearly 20 years ago."

"Lemme see. I jus wanna see!"

"Trevor, back off. Now," Rose said. It was the same voice that could quiet a room of 30 16 year-olds and make Julie and Carlos regret all their life decisions.

Unfortunately, Trevor was too drunk to register it. He swayed closer, reaching out with one shaking hand. "C'mon, Ray! Lemme see."

Ray took a breath and extended his arm. "Here."

He glanced at Rose, saw her grit her teeth, but stayed still as Tevor pawed at his bicep, the way you didn't move around snarling dogs. "It says, 'Tell your friends!'," Ray ground out, in case Trevor couldn't read it.

Trevor's hand stopped groping Ray's arm, and he slowly pulled back, staring at Ray like he'd never seen him before. "'Tell yer friens'?" he asked. "Thassit? 'Tell yer friens'?"

"Yes," Ray said tightly. He yanked his sleeve down and took several steps back, putting more space between the two of them.

Trevor's face went open and liquid, and vulnerable in a way Ray wouldn't have imagined. "'Tell your friens'?" he asked again, like he couldn't believe it. "'Tell your friens'?"

Ray's anger immediately dissolved into concern. "Trevor? Are you all right?"

Trevor started crying: big, fat tears slid down his cheeks, accompanied by thick, wet sobs. "Get out!" he yelled suddenly, splaying his hands over his face like an infant. "Get out! Getta fuck out!"

"I'll get the kids," Rose said, before she stalked towards the helicopter. She stopped next to the chef, who'd been trying to ignore the whole thing. Ray couldn't hear what she said, but the man nodded grimly.

"Trevor, can I call someone for you?" Ray tried, "I don't think you should—"

"Izaid GET OUT!" Trevor surged towards him, hands out to shove.

Ray managed to twist to the side before Trevor connected. Trevor's momentum carried him forward, and he was too drunk to keep his balance. He fell heavily onto his hands and knees.

He stayed like that, head down and sobbing. "Get out. Get out," he moaned. "Please. Get out."

Ray hesitated, hating to leave Trevor like that, but he saw Rose with Julie and Flynn, and followed them through the house to their car.

"Should we bring Carrie?" he asked her.

"She refused to come," Rose came near to snapping it and she wouldn't look at him. "I couldn't exactly drag her. She said Trevor's gotten drunk like this a lot, since her mom left. He never hurts her, just watches TV on the couch until he falls asleep. Antoine told me he's dealt with Trevor like this before."

Antoine had to be the chef. No wonder he'd looked so unhappy. "She shouldn't have to deal with that."

"I know. But she doesn't want to leave. She says her dad needs her."

Ray clenched his jaw but didn't argue. He wasn't about to grab Carrie and haul her out of there, no matter how bad the situation. Not if she was adamant about not going.

They didn't speak again until they got into the car, with the two girls huddled uncomfortably in the back, all-too aware of the miserable scene they'd just left. Rose drove, and he could tell by the way she shoved the gearshift into Reverse and then Drive that she was definitely pissed. But she wouldn't have it out with him with kids in the car.

"What happened to Carrie's dad?" Julie asked. "Was he crying?"

"Was it cause Tammy walked out on him to go back to New York?" That was Flynn, blowing past social discretion like normal. Ray liked that about her.

"He knew Ray's soulmate," Rose said.

That piqued both girls' interest. They perked up like gophers. 

"He did? Is that why he was crying? Were they boyfriends?" Flynn asked eagerly.

"Oh! Oh! _Were_ they boyfriends?" Julie piped up. "Was he crying about his boyfriend, Dad?"

"I don't know," Ray said. "And that's not the kind of thing we ask about, since it's private."

"He obviously knew him well, since he recognized the words," Rose said. Her voice was still cool, but she didn't sound quite as angry. Nonetheless, Ray was not looking forward to hashing it out later. Especially as he knew exactly what had upset her.

"Maybe he handed out flyers a lot," Julie offered. "Oh!" She leaned forward so she could clutch Ray's seat, putting her mouth painfully near his ear. "Maybe they were in Sunset Curve together!"

"Ow. Inside voice," Ray said.

"Sit properly so the seatbelt doesn't tear you in half," Rose said. "That's a good point though, Julie. Sunset Curve had four members."

"Wasn't the fourth one named Bobby?" Ray had looked at the boys' pictures on the liner notes of their demo often enough to memorize their names. He had never played it, though. He somehow couldn't bring himself to.

Rose nodded. "Yeah, I think you're right. He was a vegetarian." She grimaced. "I remember that, because it's why he didn't die with the others."

"They died from meat?" Flynn asked, horrified.

"Uh-huh. They got food poisoning from bad hotdogs," Julie said with authority. "So always make sure you cook your hotdogs right or you'll die."

"It was a very unusual case," Ray said quickly, because Flynn's eyes looked like saucers in the rearview mirror. "Normal food poisoning will just make you sick. Even from hotdogs."

"I'm never eating hotdogs again," Flynn whispered.

"Maybe Trevor and my soulmate were in a different band together, or went to the same school," Ray said, partially just to change the subject. Sure, he was curious, but it was decades too late for the knowledge to make a difference.

"It's funny, how interconnected it all is," Rose said. "I met Sunset Curve, one of them was your soulmate, and Carrie's father knew them as well. I wonder what other connections there might be?"

They died instead of Tony Stark, and Tony Stark nearly ran him over because they died. Ray didn't want to say any of that in front of the children. "I don't really think it makes a difference."

* * *

Rose came in through the back door and slid it shut behind her. "Okay," she said on a heavy breath, "the girls are happily eating pizza and watching a movie on your laptop. They're really excited about sleeping in the studio tonight, and neither of them seemed upset about what happened anymore. So I think we're good." 

"Thank you," Ray said. "And, yes. You're absolutely right, and under normal circumstances I would have never let Trevor touch me."

He'd been hoping admitting it outright would derail the oncoming argument, but the way Rose snatched two plates out of the cupboard, jerked the adults' pizza box open, then slapped two pieces onto the top plate made it clear the argument was going to happen anyway. "He asked about your soulmarks. For your dead soulmate. And then he touched them, and you let him!" She shoved the plate into the microwave, slammed the door shut and stabbed the reheat button. She turned around and leaned against the counter, hands on her hips. "I don't even _have_ a soulmate and I know how wrong that was!"

"I didn't 'just let him'," Ray said, frowning. "I didn't want to start a fight. Especially not with you and the girls right there."

"I know!" Rose said, glaring. "I know exactly why you let him do it. But he put his filthy mitts on you. Where the hell are your boundaries, Ray?"

"Exactly where they've always been!" Ray shot back, then winced inwardly when he realized that probably wouldn't help him. "What do you think would've happened if I'd refused, Rose? You saw him, he was drunk off his ass! Would you really have preferred it if he'd taken a swing at me? In front of the kids?"

"No! Of course not!" Rose shouted.

"Then what are we arguing about?"

"About…about the fact that _ape_ grabbed you, and…." Rose stopped, taking a deep breath. She put her hands on her head, digging her fingers into her hair. "And I can't stand that he did that to you. He had no right. It was disgusting. And I was thinking, all the way home: what if the girls saw you? Letting him do that?"

Ray winced; he'd thought about that himself. He scrubbed his face, suddenly exhausted. It'd been a harrowing evening already, and he and Rose still hadn't eaten anything. He lifted his head. "I would have explained to them that I didn't want to risk getting into a physical fight with a belligerent drunk. And that I also didn't want to risk their safety, since I had no idea if Trevor would get violent, or exactly how violent he'd get. And I _especially_ didn't want to risk your safety, since they could shut the helicopter doors, but you were right next to me. And he must outweigh you by at least 100 pounds."

"And," he went on, because this was the most important part, "I would tell Julie that I'd experience any discomfort, unhappiness or humiliation on earth, if it meant I kept my family safe. I will always choose the three of you over me, and I will do it every single time. And…." He swallowed. "And you're just going to have to accept that. Because it's not going to change. I am never going to worry about me if it means risking you."

Rose looked at him for a long moment, then hung her head. "Dios mio," she said on a breath, then raised her head again and opened her arms. "Come here."

He walked into her hug gladly, holding her tight.

"Why'd you have to be so freaking noble, huh?" She asked against his shoulder. "You're too good, Ray."

Ray chuckled. "I don't think my parents would agree with you." He kissed her neck. "You know I'd do anything for you and the kids, right?"

"I do," she said, and her certainty warmed him to his soul. "I wanted to hit him. I really wanted to hit him. I hated him doing that to you."

"I know," Ray said. "I know, but it's okay. I'm fine."

"I don't think Julie should go over there anymore."

"No," Ray agreed. "Carrie comes to our house or they meet somewhere else. That's it."

"And if he touches you like that again, you bash his teeth in."

Ray laughed and kissed her neck again. "I promise."

The microwave beeped. Rose kissed his cheek before letting go of him. She pulled the plate out of the microwave and handed it to him. "Eat."

He took a slice and gave the plate back to her. "Let's share."

Rose shook her head fondly. " _Tan noble_." She took the slice.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Yeah. Hi. So. I almost killed my soulmate today."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your faith in this story. :D It's so kind of everyone who's been reading it. ♥
> 
> And of course I can't post a chapter without the usual thanks to the spectacular Squeaky, who made several incredibly helpful suggestions. I would have been floundering without her.

Ray's cellphone rang at just about one in the morning.

He grabbed it off the bedside table and answered it without looking, because Rose had loaned her phone to the girls in the studio, in case they had a problem overnight. Neither she nor Ray felt comfortable about Julie or Flynn wandering around outside alone in the dark, no matter how close the studio was to the house.

"Hello? Everything okay?" Ray asked, blinking himself awake. He began climbing out of bed, so Rose could go back to sleep.

"No, not really. I almost killed my soulmate."

Ray stopped moving with one foot on the floor. " _Tony?_ "

He heard Rose rolling over. "Is that Tony Stark?"

"Yeah. Hi. So. I almost killed my soulmate today. In D.C. You saw that, right? The crashing helicarriers? I mean, everybody probably saw that—"

"Yes it is. It's fine. Go back to sleep," Ray said to Rose, making his voice as gentle as possible, considering he wasn't feeling very gentle at the moment. "Tony," he said a lot less gently, "it's one in the morning. Why are you calling me?" Ray slipped the rest of the way out of bed and quickly left the room.

"I know, I know. It's, like, nearly four a.m. here. I'm sorry. I really am. But, did you hear what I said? It's…I made a really bad decision, Ray. I mean, _really_ bad. And I don't know what to do anymore. And…" His voice dropped, like he was sharing a confession. "And I don't have anyone else. Not for this."

"Not anyone?" Ray asked in astonishment. He'd gone down the stairs into the living room, but still needed to keep his voice down. He gave his head a sharp shake. "Never mind. Just, hang on a second." He pressed his finger and thumb briefly against his eyes, trying to get his brain in gear. He'd been very much asleep. "Which soulmate? Is Steve okay? Are you okay?" he added, abruptly wondering if he should be concerned. Apparently Captain America had been injured, though he'd been able to dive out of a failing helicarrier into the Potomac and swim to shore. But Ray thought Iron Man had come through the chaos all right.

"What?" Tony sounded bewildered he'd ask. "Yeah. Yeah. I'm fine. I mean, other than fucking up so spectacularly I don't think I can fix this. And, uh, Steve will be fine. I just don't think he'll talk to me again. It's my other one."

"The assassin?" Ray walked into the kitchen and leaned against the counter. "Oh, my God. Did he come after you?"

"No." And there was that awful laugh Ray remembered. "He was sent after Steve. And, oh! Spoiler: he's Steve's soulmate too."

" _What?_ "

"Yeah. Nice little triad. Except for how he killed my parents. And how Steve never told me about him. As in, anything at all."

"What do you mean, Steve didn't tell you?" Ray asked, confused. "He's your soulmate. Why wouldn't he tell you if he had another one?"

There was a pause, and then Ray recognized Tony's guilty swallow from all the times his kids had done it. Only it was a lot cuter with a six- or nine-year old.

"I…may not have actually told Steve I'm his soulmate," Tony said.

"Wait," Ray said again. His confusion was rapidly heating to real anger. "You didn't tell Steve you're his soulmate? You seriously haven't said anything?"

"Well, he never mentioned it either!" Tony said hotly. "I wanted to! There just…. It was never a good time."

"I can't believe this!" Ray managed not to shout. "It's been three years, Tony! You said you'd tell him in 2011! It's 2014! You've had _three years,_ and you didn't tell him?"

"I already said I didn't!" Tony said, his voice a strange mix of chagrin and frustration. "Could we get to the real issue, please? Like how I abandoned one of my soulmates on a fucking Hydra helicarrier so I could beat the shit out of my other one?" His voice dropped back to a self-incriminating murmur. "I mean, _really_ beat the shit out of him. I just…I grabbed him and flew him into Virginia and dropped him in a field. Because I didn't want anyone to stop me. And then…." His breath hitched. "I was screaming at him, 'You killed my parents! You killed my parents!' And, and I was just hitting him with everything I had, you know? I mean, I was so angry. So fucking angry. This asshole had ruined my life. He'd killed innocent kids! He'd been hurting my _soulmate! Who never even told me about him!_ And—"

"You never told Steve about him either," Ray said.

"I know!" Tony said angrily. "I know I didn't! You think I'm proud of that?"

"I don't know what the hell to think, Tony," Ray snapped. "All I know is, it's past one in the morning, and you're telling me how you nearly beat a man to death and expecting me to sympathize. And I can't. Even if he killed your parents. Even if he killed my soulmate. What you did is wrong on so many levels I don't even know how to process it." He rubbed his forehead. He was too tired to deal with this. "Is he even really your soulmate? Did he actually say your words, while you were beating the crap out of him?"

"Yeah," Tony said, rough. "I asked him if he remembered them. My parents, I mean. And he said he remembered all of them."

"I'm sorry," Ray said, meaning it. It didn't matter how furious he was right then; he could still empathize with how terrible Tony must have felt in that moment.

"Except, he didn't kill my parents," Tony said.

Ray frowned. "What do you mean? You just said he did."

"Yeah, uh. It's complicated," Tony began in a rush. "Basically, he was frozen for almost as long as Steve. Only, unlike Steve, he got defrosted periodically to be tortured and brainwashed, and then sicced on people like an attack dog. By Hydra. They used him for years to kill people. Including my parents. But, it wasn't his choice. It was never his choice. Hydra stole his identity and turned him into a killing machine."

"But, he said your words."

"He lied," Tony said simply. "I mean, I didn't know that at the _time,_ but I've spent the last, uh, 21 hours going through all the Hydra files that Black Widow dumped on the web. About him, I mean. And, yeah. He lied. What I saw…." There was a moment of silence broken only by the shudder in Tony's breathing. "After what they did to him, there was no way he could have remembered. I think he just said it because he hoped it'd make me stop hitting him. Or maybe…maybe so I'd…" Tony stopped speaking again. Ray waited, listening to him breathe. "So I'd finish the job and no one would hurt him anymore."

"That's awful," Ray said.

"Yes it is," Tony agreed. "My soulmate is an innocent man who was tortured for longer than I've been alive, and…" His voice went small. "I really hurt him, Ray. I hurt my soulmate. And Steve's. And I don't know how to fix this. I've done something horrible and I have absolutely no idea how to fix it."

Ray took a deep breath and held it, then let it out slowly. "Okay. This is what you're going to do. First of all, you're going to shut up and listen, unless I ask you something. Got it?"

"Yes," Tony said.

"Good. Now, where are your soulmates? Steve and this other one?"

"Uh. Steve is in the hospital. His soulmate had done a number on him by the time I got there. Because I didn't even know anything was going down until I saw it on the news."

"Back up a little," Ray said. Now he was confused again. "You didn't know Steve was a fugitive? That he got captured and escaped? Didn't he ask for your help?"

"What part of 'I saw it on the news' implied he asked for my help?" Tony snarled. "He didn't tell me a fucking thing. When he was captured and I couldn't find him, I thought…." Tony swallowed again. "Our soulmate was about to shoot him, when I crashed through the hull of the helicarrier. I'm just grateful I got there in time."

"Me too," Ray said honestly. "Do you know where your other soulmate is?"

"No," Tony said, dismayingly quickly. "I, uh, dropped him after he said my words. I wasn't…I guess I wasn't expecting them. He ran off."

Jesus Christ, Ray thought. "Can you find him?"

"Yes," Tony said, but then he hesitated. "I think so? Pretty sure. He has a metal arm that gives off weird readings. I should be able to track it."

"Great," Ray said on an exhale, relieved. "Okay. So, your first priority is finding your soulmate and making sure he's all right. He probably needs medical attention, and it sounds like he's been traumatized. You have to get him the help he needs, Tony," Ray stressed. "Whatever that means. You owe him that."

"Yeah, yeah. Okay." Ray could practically hear Tony's frantic nodding.

"And then you need to get Steve to his soulmate, and you need to apologize to them both."

He could hear the hesitation. "But, what about Steve? He never told me about his soulmate either."

"Why would he have?" Ray demanded loudly, then grimaced and lowered his voice. "You didn't say a damn word to him about your soulmates for three years! If you'd told him from the beginning, if you'd _trusted_ him, he would have known he could trust you in return. And you would've had someone to help you with your grief and anger, so you wouldn't have taken it out on an innocent man. Madre de Dios, Tony!" he said in a harsh whisper, because he really wanted to yell. "I shouldn't have to tell you this. You're an adult. You're an Avenger. You own one of the largest corporations in the world. You shouldn't need a near-stranger to tell you how to pick up after yourself. You screwed up. You screwed up really, really badly. So you get the hell up, do what you can to fix it, and apologize like a damn adult. And you _do better_ next time. That's the only way you can more forward: use your damn words and do better."

There was another stretch of silence. "What if they don't forgive me?"

"Then they don't," Ray said with brutal simplicity. "And you grieve the loss, accept their choice and move on. We've both lived most of our lives without soulmates," he added, trying to be a little more gentle. "You'll be fine." 

"I don't want to be fine," Tony said softly. "I want my soulmates."

"Then go find them, Tony," Ray said, exasperated. "They need you a hell of a lot more than you need to be talking to me."

"Yeah. Yeah, right," Tony said quickly, like Ray was the one keeping him on the line. "Okay. I'll do that now. Um, thank you, Ray. You're a good friend."

He hung up.

"Dios mio." Ray looked at his phone, then on a whim added Tony Stark's name and number to his contacts. He took another deep breath, then decided to check on the girls, since he was up anyway.

God only knew how he'd manage to get back to sleep after that.

* * *

Eight months later, a deliverywoman in a well-fitting tuxedo rang their doorbell and gave them a bouquet nearly as big as Rose, made entirely of roses and dahlias in different shades of pink.

There was a large envelope nestled artfully among the blossoms, with the address of Stark Industries.

Ray heaved the flowers onto the dining table, and Rose immediately buried her face in the petals, inhaling blissfully. "These are so pretty!" she exclaimed, when she finally lifted her head. Then she frowned. "How did Tony know I like dahlias?"

"Tony thinks stalking people is a way to show affection. Don't worry about it." Ray slit the envelope open with a dinner knife he'd grabbed from the kitchen, then pulled out a sheaf of paper. There was a folded notecard on the top of the pile, which read:

_Just a token of thanks._   
_Your friend,_   
_Tony._

Inside was some kind of invitation on creamy white paper. Rose picked it up, squinting at the elaborate calligraphy. "Is this handwritten…?" She suddenly put her hand over her mouth. "Oh, my God," she said, muffled.

"What? What is it?" Ray tugged it carefully out of her hand, suddenly terrified they'd been invited to a funeral. But it wasn't a funeral. "A commitment ceremony?"

Rose nodded with her hand still over her mouth. 

It was, indeed, an invitation to a commitment ceremony. For Tony Stark, Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes. Polygamy was illegal, so he supposed this would be the closest equivalent to a three-person wedding.

"You did want him to invite us to cool parties," Ray said with distant amazement.

"What am I supposed to wear to a commitment ceremony for three Avengers? At a billionaire's mansion in New York?" Rose had finally moved her hand, but she was whispering, as if terrified she'd alert the invitation and they'd be forced to attend in inadequate clothing.

"I don't think that will be a problem." Underneath the invitation was something that looked like a recommendation letter, except it was for the workshop of an L.A. clothing designer who made outfits for the Oscars. And underneath that was a gift certificate for a shoe store Ray normally wouldn't have dared to even walk into.

"What else is in here?" Rose said with something like gleeful terror. She started pawing through the paper, then stopped. "Ray."

Ray put the stuff he was holding aside so he could grab her, because she looked like she might actually faint. "Are you all right?"

She nodded numbly, then handed the paper to him. Her hands were shaking. "He paid for our kids' college education. All of it. And living expenses. For anywhere. Anywhere in the world they want to go." She swallowed. "And he donated five million dollars to my school."

"He _what?_ " Ray managed not to rip the papers out of his wife's hands. He leafed through them, feeling a bit shaky himself. They would have made university work for their kids, of course. They had enough savings, and there were lots of different scholarships. But this….

His kids' futures were completely secured. And the high school Rose taught at was one of the least-privileged in the L.A. district. This money would change everything.

"We can get new orchestra and band instruments," Rose said, voice hushed with awe. "And laptops! Laptops for every single student! And we can finally fix the sidewalks, and do renovations…." She started crying and laughing at the same time, then threw herself into Ray's arms. "What did you say to him, Ray? What on Earth did you say to him?"

Ray blinked. "Um, I told him to man up, find his soulmates and apologize."

Rose wiped her eyes, still laughing wetly. "I guess he did."

* * *

Rose floated into their hotel room and sat on the bed in a soft explosion of azure-colored silk, then spread her arms wide and flopped backwards with her eyes shut. "Oh, my God."

"Yes," Ray agreed wholeheartedly. He carefully took off his tuxedo jacket—in a shade of blue that went charmingly with Rose's dress—then hung it up equally carefully in the closet. He did the same for his bowtie and cummerbund, then sat to take off his shoes. His feet were still comfortable; benefits of shoes that cost about as much as renovating the bathroom. He nudged the shoes gently under the chair, idly wondering if he'd look ridiculous wearing them at his next full-day photoshoot. He decided he wasn't going to care. "I honestly don't know if that was the best wedding I've ever been to, or just the most expensive."

Rose still hadn't moved. "Both," she said with authority. "Definitely both. We got to ride in a private jet! And this hotel suite! And there was so much food!" She sighed dreamily. "That was the best cake I've had in my life."

Ray laughed and sat next to her, being careful to avoid the poof of her gown. "It was definitely very good cake." He put his hand on her nearer arm, caressing her lovely skin. 

"And it was nice of Tony to thank you in his speech."

"Yes it was." Ray dragged his hand down to her fingers and slid his in between them, running his thumb back and forth over her palm.

"I thought the three grooms looked very handsome. Bucky is a very good dancer."

"Mmm," Ray agreed. He shifted so he could lean down and kiss right above her collarbone. "I saw that when you were dancing with him." He was sure he hadn't looked nearly as good during his dance with Tony, though it'd been a lot of fun. He kissed a little closer to her throat. 

"You saw that, huh? Jealous?" He could hear the grin in Rose's voice.

He chuckled against her skin, making her shiver. "Nope. Proud. You looked amazing. And you were charming the socks off everyone." He kissed the base of her throat, smiling at the sound she made. "I was so proud to be your husband tonight."

"Oh, yeah?" She threaded her fingers through his hair, then gripped, tugging just enough to make him lift his head. Her beautiful, deep brown eyes were sparkling. "Are you going to show me exactly how proud of me you are?"

Ray grinned. "Every little bit."


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Thank you. I know that's a lot. I just…I could use a little hope right now, you know? Just, some hope. I'd appreciate it."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks to Squeaky for this one. Not only did she make the suggestion that saved a scene we both loved but would have otherwise been unnecessary, but her thoughts and reactions when she read this chapter over were incredibly helpful. (No beta, tho; we still die by hotdogs.)
> 
> [If you still haven't been reading Squeaky's JatP fics, please do yourself a favor and check them out. They are great.](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squeaky/works)
> 
> Thank you so much for sticking with me, guys! This chapter hurt me to write. I'm sorry.

The parking spot had a sign saying it was reserved for teachers, but it was 8:00 p.m. on a Saturday in January, so Ray pulled into it anyway. He wasn't going to stay long, and no one was around to care.

He crossed the parking lot to the side nearest the school. It looked a lot different now from when he'd graduated, almost entirely thanks to Tony Stark's donation. The steps the skaters had practiced their jumps on weren't there anymore. Instead, the ground had been leveled to a gentle slope to help people with mobility issues. The parking lot itself had been expanded, repaired and repainted, just like the school. It was too dark to really see the new paint job under the added lights, but Rose had enthused about the massive renovations for weeks, after they were completed.

She'd been so joyous and excited for her school. And now—

Ray clenched his jaw around the persistent ache and shoved the thought aside. 

The benches were still the same.

Ray sat with his knees neatly bent and his hands clasped in his lap, as if he were in church. It was a good night for his mood, he thought: windy and cold, the kind of weather that inspired _California Dreamin'_. Ray wasn't nearly as young as the last time he'd been here, and the chill seeped into him immediately. He shivered and zipped his jacket further up.

He cleared his throat. "Hi, Willie. I don't…I don't know if you're still here. I mean, I haven't heard you around for a while, so maybe you're in heaven. Which is great! That's where you should be. But, I guess that means you're not really…." He grimaced at himself and shook his head. "Sorry. I should have planned this out better."

He took a breath. "I wanted to say goodbye. And to apologize. I didn't even realize you haven't been around until…" He winced. "Until a couple days ago. I just…assumed you were, I guess." He smirked sadly. "You seem to have a knack for being there when I need you.

"But, it occurred to me, maybe you had other things to do, you know? Better things than sticking around some middle-aged dad who isn't always sure he's not just talking to thin air. Like moving on. And, I hate to think I might have prevented you from doing that, because I liked the idea you were nearby.

"I would've helped you, you know, if I could have. If you'd been able to tell me. You were such a good friend to a sad, lonely little boy. I would've been happy to return that favor. You deserved to move on. Go to heaven.

"So, I apologize. For not thinking about it. For not thinking about what you might have needed, while you were being my friend. I guess…I always saw you as an older brother, and I guess I never stopped. And I'm sorry."

Ray wiped his eyes with his fingers. "Rose is dying, Willie. I don't know if you heard me talking about the headaches she was getting all the time. We thought it was stress. I was planning a vacation—"

He laughed, and it reminded him painfully of Tony's. "A _vacation_ , like a complete idiot. If I'd only…." He swallowed, then wiped his eyes again. "She had a seizure, so we took her to a specialist. The M.R.I. found a tumor. Inoperable. The doctor said she has maybe eight months to live." His breath hitched, then broke. "Oh, God, Willie. My wife is dying. My beautiful wife—!"

Ray put the back of his fist to his open mouth, then leaned forward and clutched his abdomen with his other arm. As if that could somehow cage his grief.

He cried for what felt like a very long time.

"Yeah, so," he managed finally on a shuddering breath. He cleaned his hand on his jeans, then wiped his eyes with the sleeves of his jacket. "Like I said, I'm also here to say goodbye. Not to you, but to you as a ghost. I…I've been thinking about…about death a lot, lately. And I realized I never really looked after you, the way you looked after me. So I'm going to light a candle for you tomorrow." He smiled through the tears still running down his face. "And I'll probably pray to you a lot, still, since I've kind of gotten used to it. I hope you don't mind. But I'm going to start praying _for_ you as well. I should have done that a long time ago. I apologize for that, too.

"And, um, if you see my soulmate up there, can you tell him, I still think about him?" Ray rubbed his left bicep; a habit he'd never managed to break. "I think about your soulmate too. I think about them a lot. I hope they're happy. I pray for them too, you know. Well, I pray for all our soulmates: mine, yours and Julie's. I don't know if that's something you'd do, but since you can't…." He shrugged. "It seems like the least I can do, you know?

"And…" He gritted his teeth and shut his eyes tightly until he was sure he wouldn't cry again. "If it's not too much trouble, when…when it's time, could you look out for Rose, please? Just, make sure she's okay?" 

Ray sighed. "I hope you're happy, Willie, wherever you are. And thank you. Thank you for everything."

Ray sat another moment, wiping his eyes, then nodded to himself. He got up, putting his hands in his pockets. He and the kids had agreed to do their best to make every day they had left with Rose a celebration. So when Carlos had asked for donuts for Sunday breakfast before church, he'd immediately agreed. He was also going to get Rose her favorite guilty-pleasure grocery store birthday cake, and another plant for her studio. But he'd been mostly grateful for the excuse to leave the house. He hated crying around Rose, when she was suffering even more than he was. 

He'd pick up everything on the way home. He could blame traffic for it taking longer than expected and probably wouldn't even have to lie.

"Geeze, I sound like I'm cheating on her." Ray shook his head in self-disgust. "I know, Willie, I should've told her about you when Julie started playing pat-a-cake with your head. But it's been so many years now, and I still can't figure out a way to do it. It's like a bad rom-com plot, I know. It's just—"

There were skateboard trucks, rattling through the nearly-empty parking lot. Ray would know that sound anywhere.

He whirled to face the direction of the noise.

Part of him truly expected to see some just some random kid, out worryingly late on a school night. But there was no one there.

Ray did a full circle to make sure, but there was no one.

" _Willie?_ "

Ray waited, holding his breath, but no one called his name. No one answered at all.

But, he'd heard the trucks. He knew he had. Maybe he was just going crazy, but he'd heard them.

"Thank you, Willie," he said softly.

No one answered him, but he felt a little bit lighter on the way back to his car.

* * *

That Sunday Ray lit candles for Willie, his own soulmate, and Julie's. And he prayed for their souls, and prayed for the wellbeing of Willie's soulmate too. He'd told Willie he would, and he owed it to him.

Ray hoped it made a difference; none of his prayers for Rose did.

* * *

Ray stalked out of the hospice attached to the Maria Stark Memorial Hospital Los Angeles, and into the brilliant spring sunshine. It was a typically lovely California day, and Rose had felt well enough to sit up for a few minutes and look out the window. The hospice had a beautiful, lush park surrounding most of the building, and whoever had designed it had made sure it was in view of all the patient rooms. It was nice.

He noted absently that his hands were shaking when he pulled open his car door, though he wasn't angry. He didn't even feel scared. Just a kind of sick, heaving emptiness, like looking into a pit and knowing you're going to fall.

He pulled his phone out of his back pocket, then slid behind the wheel. For a moment he closed his eyes and imagined turning the car on and just driving: somehow going far and fast enough to leave this horror behind. He knew he wouldn't, even if he somehow could.

Ray fished his phone out of the cupholder where he'd put it, opened his contacts and dialed Tony Stark.

It was easy to imagine the stretch of miles between California and New York in the slight crackle before each ring. Ray waited, free hand clenched and heart aching, as the phone rang again and again before the familiar click over to the voice message.

 _Hi! If you got my voicemail I'm either busy saving the world or avoiding your call. Leave a message and if it's the former I'll get back to you._ The phone beeped.

"Hi. It's Ray. Ray Molina. A few years ago, you gave me your number and told me to call if I ever needed anything. Well, I do. I really need you help.

"Rose is dying, Tony. She has brain cancer, and…and she's in hospice now. It's the Maria Stark one, and it's really nice. Everyone here has been very kind. But, she's dying. She only has a couple months left, maybe less. And I…."

He swallowed, ruthlessly forcing down tears he didn't have time to shed. "And I'm calling you because, you are the one person in the world who I know who might be able to help her.

"I'm not asking for a miracle, Tony. Just, even a few more months. The kids are devastated, and some days…. Well, it-it's really bad. I know you've lost people you've loved. So have I. But let me tell you: Slow? Like this? This is hell. This is absolute fucking hell, Tony. You don't even know—"

He took a breath through his nose, clenched his jaw until his teeth hurt. "I am begging you to help her. Please. If there is _anything_. I mean, any experimental medicine, or procedure you might know about. Anything that might make a difference.

"Thank you. I know that's a lot. I just…I could use a little hope right now, you know? Just, some hope. I'd appreciate it."

He hung up, then just stared at the phone for a long time.

* * *

When he went back inside, the staff were talking frantically among themselves. Ray immediately asked if Rose was okay.

It had nothing to do with Rose. One of the nurses breathlessly told him that there'd been another attack on New York. Iron Man had disappeared inside a giant, circular spaceship. And it had blasted out of Earth's orbit minutes later. He was gone.

* * *

Rose died in June, almost to the day of when the doctor predicted she would.

The memorial service was beautiful. It seemed like the entire high school showed up. It was a good feeling, to know Rose's short life had still made such a difference to so many.

There weren't a lot of other good feelings. Not during the service or the placing of her ashes, or for weeks afterwards. There were definitely days when Ray wasn't sure he'd ever feel good about much of anything again, other than his kids. And they were hurting too, probably even worse than he was. At least Carlos had Victoria. Ray was happy for him to spend as much time with his aunt as he wanted, since it seemed to help them both. But Julie had been as close to Rose as someone could get without being soulmates. Now all she had was her father. It was difficult.

Which was why Ray was walking through the St. Frances Garden of the Calvary Catholic Cemetery with a bouquet of overpriced dahlias from the flower shop, instead of sitting at home working. Julie had been furious at him this morning—Ray couldn't even remember what for, now—and the fight had gotten so heated she'd been late for school. He hadn't been able to concentrate on anything after that, other than self-recrimination and how Rose would've been so much better at this. But Rose wasn't there anymore.

When he'd started feeling like there wasn't enough oxygen in the house, Ray had practically ran to his car and driven here. Normally he would've gone to Rose's studio, if he wanted to talk to her. Her presence felt stronger there, nestled with all her personal things. But that had also been the space Rose shared with Julie. After their fight, going there felt like intruding.

Besides, it was a gorgeous day.

Ray did his best to just be in the moment: enjoy the warmth of the sun and the colors of the flowers, and his lungs filling with each breath of air. His therapist had urged him to do that, whenever his emotions got too hard to bear. It helped.

He sighed a little as he approached the row of niches where they'd placed Rose's urn. His choice would have been to scatter her ashes in the Rose Garden of the Hollywood Forever Cemetery. He couldn't think of much better than Rose being part of a beautiful garden sharing her name. But even if Rose had no problem with the expense, which she did, Catholics considered the scattering of ashes to be the same as desecrating a body. That kind of thing didn't bother Ray, but it bothered Rose. So she was here instead.

At least the greenery surrounding the niches was nice, and there was a bench where he could sit and maybe finally calm the hell down.

Except there was already a man sitting on the bench, and it really wasn't big enough for two.

Ray stopped walking. He took another deep breath of the warm air and exhaled slowly. He knew, realistically, that someone else being in the St. Francis Garden was neither unexpected nor a reason to feel this frustrated. The man was in a suit, too; maybe he'd come here on his lunch break. It was just that Ray's fuse had been shorter than he liked for a while. Another thing he was working on.

He decided to put the bouquet in the sconce on Rose's niche, then go for a walk around the garden. He didn't need to be staring at the niches if he wanted to talk to her, after all. And the walk would do him good anyway.

The person sitting was facing away from him, so Ray purposely made his steps louder as he approached, so he wouldn't scare them. The man whipped around anyway, as if he startled easily. And Ray recognized Tony Stark.

Ray gasped. Then, "Tony!" He ran the rest of the distance to the bench, reaching it just as Tony stood. He embraced him fiercely, wrapping his arms around his back and holding tight. "Tony! Oh, my God, Tony! I'm so glad to see you! I thought you were dead!"

Tony had stiffened for a moment, like he'd been prepared for an attack, then relaxed and hugged Ray just as tightly. "No, I'm fine. I'm fine." He pulled back first, and Ray let him, though he still held his arms. Tony's eyes were full of guilt. "I'm so sorry. Seriously. I'm sorry, Ray. I didn't know. I would've—"

Ray pulled Tony into his arms again. "Hey, no. No. Don't. You were in space! I found out about the attack right after I called you. I don't blame you for anything! I'm just so glad you made it back."

"Thank you," Tony said. "I…" He let out a breath, relaxing like he'd been relieved of a burden. "Thank you." His eyes were red when he pulled back again.

"Are you okay?" Ray asked him.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

Ray shrugged. He knew his smile looked a lot more like a rictus of pain. "Honestly? I'm not so good, Tony. It's terrible. It's absolutely awful. I can't even…" He pressed his lips together, shaking his head. "It's awful. I miss her every day. The kids are losing their minds. Most days I can barely drag myself out of bed. But, I'm still here, you know? I'm here, and she's not, so I just keep going. For the sake of Julie and Carlos, I keep going."

"I'm sorry," Tony said.

"Thank you." Ray sighed. "It's getting easier, believe it or not." He smirked tiredly. "Like, I managed to drive here today, instead of spiraling."

"Way better than drinking yourself into a stupor or beating the shit out of your soulmate," Tony said.

Ray put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "You haven't done either of those things for a long time."

"I know." Tony nodded. "I'm just aware there's always the potential, for me. I am glad you're doing better, even if it doesn't feel like much. Grief is…incremental like that, isn't it? I'm just, I'm sorry. I wish I could've been here. Done something."

"I know you would have, if you could." Ray squeezed his shoulder gently before letting go. "I'm glad you're safe." 

"Thank you. It was a little dicey for a while." Tony's smile was as wry as ever. "I spent about two months planet-hopping with a bunch of _Star Wars_ background characters, trying to get home in a damaged ship about the size of a walk-in closet. And, you know, this was after one of the Island of Misfit Toys refugees had pulled a Leeroy Jenkins and let the Big Bad get away. So the whole time we were bounding around the galaxy, I was sure we'd come back to find Earth had been turned into a hyperspace bypass a-la The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy." He shrugged. "So, y'know. Fun times."

"We were in that much danger?" Ray asked, astonished. It was almost impossible to imagine: that the entire world might have been destroyed at the same time Ray was losing Rose; a macrocosm annihilation echoing the microcosm of his life.

Tony's smile took on an edge. "Let's put it this way. We are all very, very lucky Thor decided to go for the head."

"Dios mio," Ray breathed.

"Yup." Tony gestured at the niches. "I didn't mean to intrude. I just came to pay my respects. This is literally the first time I've had two days to myself in something like three months." He gave a grimace of apology. "I'm really sorry I didn't get your call. I know it was due to circumstances _way_ beyond my control. But, still. Rose was awesome."

"Thank you. She was." Ray's smile felt fragile, so he ducked his head and mumbled, "excuse me," before going to Rose's niche to finally give her the flowers. There was a very large bouquet of dahlias and roses directly above her space, set precariously on the angled roof. One good gust of wind would probably blow it off, but it was a nice thought. The bouquet was certainly beautiful. He looked at Tony over his shoulder. "Did you bring these?"

"Yeah. I remembered she liked the other ones. So…." He gave a self-conscious, one-armed shrug. "I thought she might like those too."

"I'm sure she would. Thank you." Ray kissed his fingertips, then touched them to the little door. All it had on it was their last name, then Rose's first name and the dates of her birth and death. Ray hated how there was nothing to show the incredible, unique and beloved person she'd been. It would always be written on his heart, but that would never feel like enough. 

"I, uh, tried. You know. To find a cure," Tony said. He was still standing on the far side of the bench with his hands in the pockets of his suit jacket. It suddenly occurred to Ray that Tony had dressed up to bring the flowers. Like he was visiting someone important.

"You did?" Ray asked, voice rough.

"Yeah. There're doing some amazing things in Wakanda, right now. I don't know if you remember how the country opened up a few years ago?"

Ray nodded. "They were hiding their technology, right?"

"Yeah, they were. Bigtime. But their new king decided to share. So I figured I'd see what they could do about brain cancer." He gave the one-shoulder shrug again. "You know, since a delegation from Stark Industries was there anyway."

Ray stared at him, wide-eyed. "You did that because of Rose?"

"Of course." Tony looked like Ray was crazy for asking. "You loved—you love her. And you're my friend. And you asked for my help. I couldn't be there to give it when it counted, but I'm going to do everything I can to make sure nobody else has to go through what you and Rose did."

"Tony…." Ray shook his head. "I don't…I don't know what to say."

"Don't say anything!" Tony looked slightly panicked, though Ray had no idea if it was his gratitude or how obviously overcome he was. "I mean, you don't have to say anything. It's fine. _Mi investigación es tu investigación._ Or something. And, lots of people will benefit from this, including Stark Industries! So—"

"Can I hug you again?" Ray asked him.

Tony stopped, blinking. "Um. Sure." 

This time he met Ray halfway, though he looked terribly uncertain. Ray had a feeling Tony wasn't used to getting physical affection. He hoped his soulmates hugged him; Tony deserved it. 

"Thank you, Tony," he said. "What you've done…it means more than I could ever tell you. Rose would be so proud."

"We're calling the new sector the Rose Molina Biomedical Division," Tony said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [California Dreamin'](https://youtu.be/oU6uUEwZ8FM) by The Mama's And The Papa's. A true classic.
> 
> [LEEROY JENKINS!](https://youtu.be/ufeEAxz1AH8)
> 
> Mi investigación es tu investigación - My research is your research
> 
> Again, I am so, so sorry. But next chapter is 2020! I finally got everyone to the timeline of the show!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Tia, what was it like, when Carlos said your words?"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gotta give the usual big props to [Squeaky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squeaky/works), for help and encouragement. :D She is awesome. (Her JatP fic is really great, too. Go read it if you haven't; I'll wait.)
> 
> We have finally entered the actual timeline of the Netflix series! I am so scared. xD

In retrospect, maybe Ray shouldn't have been surprised when Julie ran screaming out of her mom's studio, after she'd so reluctantly agreed to tidy it.

It did make him kick himself a little harder for having suggested it in the first place. The way her face fell when he'd brought it up had broken yet another piece off his barely-mended heart. And he couldn't blame her. He didn't want to move either.

He didn't want to, but he felt like maybe they should. It seemed like what everyone was telling him to do, anyway. Apparently "moving on" literally required moving.

But he didn't want to leave. He loved the house, as much because of Rose's presence as the building itself. Julie and Carlos did too.

He kind of hated how relieved he was that Julie's reaction gave him an excuse to put it off.

He grabbed her arms before she collided with Carlos. "Whoa! Whoa! Slow down." He tried to keep the smile off his face, but he couldn't help it: Julie looked adorable flailing around, especially with her dinosaur slippers. "You look like you've seen a ghost!"

"I have!" she yelled, which made him blink, since he'd assumed she'd just been startled by a raccoon or opossum. But Carlos exclaimed "Cool!" before he could ask her any details. And then she'd galloped to the house, told them to run, and disappeared inside.

He made sure Carlos went to change, then gave Julie a moment to calm down. He needed one himself, to figure out how he was supposed to handle this.

Ray believed in ghosts. He had for a very long time. But he'd never figured out how to talk about them.

* * *

Unfortunately, Julie had not calmed down by the time he got to her room, considering she nearly jumped out of her skin when he said, "Hey," so he wouldn't startle her. He grimaced, hating how spooked she still seemed. "Sorry. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

He'd tried to look as open and receptive as possible, considering he was still fumbling around how he was even going to approach the ghost thing. But he must have failed spectacularly, because she just gave him that exasperated expression he'd come to know well enough to hate. 

"You don't believe me, do you?" She said it on a sigh, like he'd just lived down to her expectations.

That stung.

"Honey, of course I do!" he exclaimed. Because he _did._ "I do believe you," he insisted when she didn't look any less skeptical. He licked his lips. "Was it Willie?" He was proud he kept his voice even, considering how badly his heart was pounding. It was the first time he'd even suggested Willie could be a ghost to anyone.

Julie's eyes widened in surprise, but then she glared at him. "No! It wasn't my imaginary friend! It was nothing like that!"

"What?" Ray frowned, confused. "Willie wasn't imaginary. He's a ghost. The ghost of my dead friend. Your brother saw him too."

"Of course he did! He picked it up from me!" she snapped. "I'm not talking about my imaginary friend, Dad! You're not even listening!"

She was really furious. She probably thought he was being patronizing as hell. Ray couldn't believe how badly he'd messed up by actually telling the truth. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry. I am listening. I promise, I'm listening." He sat on her ottoman and pushed his sweater sleeves up above his wrists, all business. "Tell me what you saw."

Julie looked at him a moment, but then just huffed out a breath and rolled her eyes. "You sound like Dr. Turner."

Ouch.

"Julie, I believe you," Ray said, as seriously as he could. He looked up at her, resting his hands on his thighs. "I believe in ghosts. I believe you saw something in the studio. I just want to help you deal with it."

He could tell even before she opened her mouth that it was too late. He'd missed the window for meaningful father/child communication, and now he was dealing with prickly, unhappy teen again. "It's fine, Dad. Can we just drop it?" Julie's words were polite, but her tone was completely "shut up and leave".

If Ray had learned one thing during this past, awful year, it was to quit while he was behind.

"Dropping it." He nodded, lowering his gaze for a second from her sweet, angry face that reminded him so much of Rose, and tried not to think of how disappointed his wife would be in him. His eyes grazed over the gaping holes in the knees of her jeans. And stopped.

"Julie?" He squinted, trying to make sense of what he was looking at. "Did you do something to your words?"

"No. Of course not," she said, still annoyed. She barely glanced at her leg, then crossed her arms. "I'd like to get some more work done in the studio before dinner," she said pointedly.

"Right." Ray nodded and stood up. "That's great. You do that," he said inanely. He didn't even suggest she didn't have to, sure she'd just take that as him patronizing her again. "We good?" he asked, hating to leave her angry. He offered his index finger, because he doubted she'd accept a hug.

"Yeah, we're good," she said, with only a tiny bit of reluctance. And she wrapped her finger around his, and they both curled them into a link.

He wanted to tell her Willie had taught him that, but he was sure it would just make her angry again.

He smiled again as he left, but it slid off his face as he trudged down the stairs. He didn't think he could've made that worse if he'd tried.

What he'd seen was probably just a trick of the light, too: the shadow from her jeans. There was no way _Well, we're all a little crazy._ could have actually been medium gray. 

Julie wasn't Tony Stark. Her soulmate wasn't frozen; he was dead. Ray hadn't seen anything.

* * *

Julie came in for dinner looking far less like she'd had the wits scared out of her, but oddly subdued. Ray made a mental note to ask her about it later in private. And hopefully do a better job.

She didn't seem unhappy, at least. But she kept staring off into space or rubbing her leg. It was bad enough that Carlos had to get her attention so he could say grace.

Ray was really thinking he should have gone with her to the studio.

Things didn't get better when Victoria showed up unannounced to deliver a meal and another passive-aggressive comment about Ray's lack of cooking skills. He was just glad she hadn't seen them hastily hiding the place setting they'd made for Rose. Ray wasn't ashamed of their small, nightly tributes to her, but he was sick to the teeth of arguing with his sister-in-law about it.

He knew Victoria meant well, but her meaning well was exhausting.

Julie was acting strange, too, beyond even how preoccupied she was. A couple of times Ray could have sworn she was reacting to a fifth person in the room. But there was nobody else there.

And _then,_ right after the bombshell about Julie being kicked out of the music program, when Victoria was finally about to leave them in peace, Julie suddenly asked: "Tia, what was it like, when Carlos said your words?"

There was no way Ray could keep the stunned betrayal off his face. Luckily Victoria's attention was on Julie.

"Julie! How sweet of you to ask!" Victoria sat down in Rose's chair, and Ray hoped to hell she didn't step on the cutlery Carlos had accidentally flung on the floor when she came in. "Well, I already knew Carlos was my soulmate." She leaned over to him to pinch his cheeks, which Carlos endured with a beaming smile. " _Mi hombrecito guapo_." She turned back to Julie and put her chin on the heel of her hand, grinning warmly at her. "Your mother had seen the words on his back, and she told me as soon as I said them." Her smile became wistful, and she crossed herself the way she always did when mentioning Rose. "But he didn't say mine until he was seven months old. One day, out of the blue, he points right at me and says, 'Ya ya ya ya!'" She laughed. "Until I met him, I always thought it would be some _borracho_ who was so loaded he couldn't even speak properly. But it was my little nephew!" She leaned over to Carlos again and ruffed his hair. " _Mi alma gemela._ "

"That's me!" Carlos said happily.

"But what did it _feel_ like?" Julie asked.

Victoria looked back at her, forehead creased in confusion. "What a strange question. It didn't feel like anything, Mija. You just have the words, so you know."

"Why are you asking this, Julie?" Ray kept his voice as gentle as possible, since Julie had a right to her curiosity. He just had no idea why the answer would matter. She didn't have a soulmate.

For a second, he was sure pure panic flickered across her face, but then Julie just took a mouthful of spaghetti and shrugged. "Juf inneresed."

"I'm always happy to answer your questions, Mija. But now I really have to get to Pilates," Victoria said, standing.

Ray smiled through all the goodbyes, mentally triaging between Julie's preoccupation, her questions about soulmates, and getting kicked out of the music program. The music program definitely needed attention first. 

He looked at Julie. He could tell by her expression she'd done the same triage and knew what was coming. 

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, doing his best to stay gentle despite his frustration. "You made me lie to your aunt."

He wasn't sure he entirely bought Julie's explanation she was going to tell him after dinner, but he let it go. He was trying to explain to her how she might find her love for music again if she'd just _try_ , when they were interrupted by music. As if it had been cued.

"I must've left the stereo on!" Julie yelped. She leapt out of her seat, barely taking the time to put Rose's plate on the table before bolting out the back door.

Ray watched her go, thinking.

Julie had said she'd seen a ghost. She'd been acting strangely all evening. Stereos didn't normally change volume on their own. And if that music was on a CD or radio, where were the lyrics?

He got up. "Please take the leftovers to the kitchen, Carlos. I'll be back in a few minutes."

Maybe he was wrong. He was probably wrong. But Ray couldn't help thinking of his daughter as a toddler: gleefully playing with someone only she could hear and see.

And when the music stopped, it didn't sound like a stereo either. It sounded like separate instruments being put down, one at a time. 

Ray walked to Rose's studio, pushed the door open, and went in.

* * *

His daughter was…staring at two guitars on stands, and a set of drums.

"Dad!" Julie all but yelled when he came in. She looked like she'd been caught doing something really bad and was hoping to talk her way out of it.

"Hey. Just making sure you're okay," Ray said, though at this point he was terribly sure she wasn't.

"I'm fine, just had to turn off the stereo," she said.

Ray sighed inwardly as he made a fuss about the instruments, mostly to have a reason to stay until he figured out what was going on. Like, why she kept acting so secretive. Or how on Earth his daughter could have carried a full drum set down from the loft and set it back up in the short time she'd actually spent in the studio. He also had no idea how Julie even knew how to set up drums, considering she'd never played them.

He was sure he'd seen the logo on the bass before, but he couldn't place it.

"I like that song you had on," Ray tried. He had a vaguely hopeful thought he could somehow segue from there to, _it's okay to tell me there's a musical ghost in here._ He just wasn't sure—

"Tell your friends!" someone said, next to his right ear.

Ray whipped his head to the right, then yelped in shock because there was _a kid in a leather jacket_ standing so close to him they were practically sharing air.

Ray backpedaled away from him, only to crash into someone else on his left side. And go right through.

He ended up on his butt on the floor, arm flailing into the guitar stand, which crashed into the speaker.

"OhmyGodohmyGod Dad! Dad, are you okay?" Julie dropped to her knees beside him, her eyes enormous behind her glasses and her face nearly ashen with alarm.

"I don't know," he said honestly. Certainly the adrenaline pooling like ice in his guts was unpleasant. He let Julie help pull him to his feet, feeling every creak of his 45 years. He looked at the three boys, who each seemed as stunned as he felt, finally fastening on the one in the leather jacket.

He knew that jacket. He knew that _face._ He knew all of their faces. That was why the logo was familiar. He just hadn't looked at it for years.

"Oh, my God," he said, awed and maybe a little terrified. "How is this possible?"

"Hey," Reggie said brightly, "those are my words."

* * *

This situation was so weird.

Normally, Reggie liked weird. He was a little weird himself. Even Alex and Luke thought so, and they were his best friends. But this was _weird_ -weird. Like, the kind of weird where Alex would probably be pacing a trench in the floor if he didn't look too anxious to even move around that much.

Reggie couldn't blame him.

At first—like a couple minutes ago—it'd been really cool to hear his words. Like, _really_ cool. He'd been waiting to meet his soulmate his whole life, and now he had. And he finally knew why the words sounded so bewildered.

But, he'd always assumed his soulmate would be somebody his age. And Mr. Molina was a _dad._ And…and dads made Reggie nervous. Even Alex's dad, who'd been awesome until he wasn't, and Luke's, who'd obviously never liked his son being in a band much, but who'd been distantly polite to his friends anyway. Reggie hadn't liked being around them, in case he made them angry.

Mr. Molina didn't look anything like Reggie's dad, and Julie didn't seem scared of him. She was even sitting beside him on the couch. Which was great! But, Reggie was still a little anxious, being in the same room as him. Especially because he was being kind of… _intense._

"Tell me again," Mr. Molina said to Luke and Alex, cause Reggie had pretty much zoned out of the conversation. "You've been in a black box? For 25 years?"

"More like a dark room," Alex said. He was twisting one of his rings, eyes darting around. "I don't remember seeing anything."

"Well, you were crying—" Luke began. 

"—Perfectly reasonably!"

"Was there anyone else there?" Julie asked. "Did you see my mom?"

That stopped everyone in their tracks. "Is your mom…did she pass away?" Luke asked. He looked horrified, like she'd asked about his mom instead of her own.

Mr. Molina nodded. "Yes. Last year."

"I am so sorry," Luke said. 

"Yeah, that's awful," Alex said. "We didn't know. I'm sorry for your loss."

Reggie nodded, because it really was awful, and he was sorry too. He didn't like his parents much, but he would hate for his mom to be dead. "You're the first people we've seen, though. I mean, non-dead people. Since you're alive. But, we didn't see any other dead people, either. Sorry," he added, because she looked so sad.

"Thanks anyway," Julie said.

Her dad wrapped her little hand in his big one and squeezed gently before he let go. That was nice.

"I still don't understand," Mr. Molina said. "It was the CD that brought you here? You heard your song and just, were suddenly here?"

"That's it, pretty much," Alex said. "And, and, I really don't get that! I mean, _why?_ Why now?" He looked at Luke and Reggie, and Reggie could tell by his expression he was close to freaking out again. "Did nobody else play our CD for the last 25 years? Reggie gave away enough of them!"

"Rose played it a few times," Mr. Molina said.

"See?" Alex demanded, arms wide. Then he frowned and turned back to Ray. "Who's Rose?"

"My mom," Julie said softly.

"One of you gave it to her, as well as a T-shirt, before you left to get food," her dad explained. "She was working at the Orpheum that night."

"Your wife was size beautiful?" Reggie asked. He laughed. "What a crazy coincidence!"

"I don't think it's a coincidence," Julie said. She rubbed her knee; Reggie wondered if it hurt. "I think my mom sent you."

"Mija?" Mr. Molina asked her.

"Why?" Alex demanded. He looked frantic for an explanation. "And how?"

"Why now?" Luke asked.

Julie looked at Luke, opened her mouth, but then just closed it with a sigh. She shook her head. "Never mind."

"Maybe it's because we're soulmates," Mr. Molina said to Reggie. His smile was hopeful and sad at the same time. "Maybe she knew how badly I always wanted to meet you."

"You did?" 

"Of course I did," Mr. Molina said. He was still really intense, but he hadn't yelled yet so it wasn't quite as scary. "I've wished I could meet you my whole life."

Reggie blinked, because that was exactly how he'd felt. He smiled, hoping it hid how uncertain he was. "Oh. Cool. Well, me too."

"Rose liked our CD, right? Maybe she wanted to help us play music again!" Luke cut in enthusiastically. "I mean, only you and Julie can see us, but _everyone_ can hear us! How awesome is that?"

Julie abruptly surged to her feet, making both Reggie and Alex bob back in alarm. "Why can't you just be normal ghosts?" she demanded, glaring at Luke. "Why can't you go haunt an old mansion or something, instead of screwing up my life?" She stalked to the door, walking right through Reggie when he didn't move out of the way fast enough.

That was really weird. For a second he could feel the way she felt: she wasn't really angry, just disappointed and sad. Probably cause they hadn't seen her mom, Reggie figured. 

"Julie!" Ray shot to his feet, but didn't go after her the way Reggie was sure he would. He looked confused, but also a little angry. 

Reggie retreated a few steps, before he remembered living people couldn't touch him anymore.

"Leave me alone!" Julie yelled over her shoulder. Reggie was so stunned _she'd yelled at her dad_ that he didn't even notice when she yanked the studio door open and stormed out.

Luke looked from the door to Mr. Molina and back, then vanished.

"Wait! No—!" Ray groaned, then slapped his palm over his face, shaking his head. "Madre de dios." He scrubbed his face then lifted his head, putting his hands on his hips. "Believe me, your friend does _not_ want to go after her when she's like this. He'll just make it worse."

"Uh, maybe I'll go see if I can help," Alex squeaked, then vanished too.

"He's um, pretty good with people. Mostly," Reggie explained.

Mr. Molina's expression did not say he believed that, but he just sighed and sat down. He closed his eyes and rubbed them with his fingers. "Hell, they probably can't do a worse job than I have lately."

Reggie shoved his hands in his pockets, unsure what he should do. The last thing he wanted was to be alone with Julie's father. But, he also hated the idea of just vanishing when he looked so defeated. Maybe it was cause they were soulmates, but, he could empathize too much to let it go. 

"I'm sure it's not that bad!" he said brightly, trying to cheer him up.

The look Mr. Molina gave him said it was exactly that bad, thanks. Reggie cringed inwardly, but Mr. Molina just took another breath, then smiled. "Thank you." He patted the couch. "You can sit." He frowned. "Wait. Do you fall through furniture too?"

"No, actually." Reggie bounced onto the couch to prove it, though he made sure to sit right at the end. "We can hold our instruments too, though we can't really pick up other stuff. It's weird."

"You're telling me." Mr. Molina shook his head again, then rubbed his forehead. "Damn it. I told Carlos I'd help him tidy up after dinner. He probably left everything except the spaghetti on the table." He pulled himself to his feet, moving slowly like he was really tired. Or old. "I'd better get in there and clean up." He started walking, then stopped, turning around. "Look," he said, and that was not a good word to start anything, but Mr. Molina was smiling, so maybe it was okay? "Julie didn't mean what she said. She had a bad day. And, honestly, it's been a pretty bad year. But, you boys can stay here, if you want. And, no matter how strange it is, I'm really glad I met you."

That made Reggie blink again. "Thanks." He couldn't quite make himself add, "Me, too," because he kept expecting Mr. Molina to go ballistic. Because that was what dads did sometimes, and you couldn't always predict it.

He rubbed the outside of his left arm as he watched Mr. Molina leave the studio. For a small, crazy moment he thought about ghost-teleporting after him, trying to make him feel better again. It was probably a soulmate thing.

He ended up going to find Luke, Alex and Julie instead, because it was safer.

* * *

"What if I told you there are three ghosts living in my mom's studio, and one of them is my soulmate?" Julie spoke out loud to herself as she typed. Then she read the words over and sighed, erasing the text instead of sending it to Flynn. "You'd think I was crazy." She briefly considered adding, "And my dad can see them too!" But gave that idea up immediately. She didn't want Flynn to think her dad was crazy either.

Julie put her phone away, then pulled up her knees and rested her arms on them. Sitting on her bed, she had a perfect view of the studio outside. The lights were still on, glowing cheerfully in the dark. When she was little, it had always made her feel safe, to look out her window at night and see the lights on. She loved knowing her mom was in there, writing her music. The studio had always been her favorite place. Until her mom got sick.

Julie couldn't remember the last time the studio lights had been on before tonight.

She tugged up the leg of her pajamas until she could see her soulmarks. Now she knew why her dad had asked her if she'd done anything to them: they were darker. Not black, but medium grey. She didn't know when they'd changed color, and she especially didn't know what it meant. Was it because Luke was a ghost? Or because he was her soulmate but she wasn't his?

Because she couldn't be. He would've reacted the first time she spoke to him if she were. And he hadn't.

Not that Julie even wanted a dead soulmate. Even if was really cute and had great arms and was really talented. Even if the way he talked about music reminded Julie of her mom. Even if he'd been able to recognize how incredibly talented Rose had been, just from reading a song she wrote.

Even if, for the first time in a year, he made Julie think about music as a gift her mother had left her, instead of a treasure Rose's death had stolen.

Julie sniffed and blinked tears out of her eyes, then cleared them away with her fingers. Her sadness for her mom was all tangled up with sadness about not having a soulmate. It was just so unfair!

It was so unfair. She'd been fine with her poor soulmate being dead. She'd been dealing with the loss of her mother. And then one cute stupid idiot ghost had to poof into her life and ruin everything.

Julie hadn't wanted to think about making music without her mom. Only now it was all she could think about, because of her stupid dead soulmate. Dead half-soulmate, because he wasn't hers.

He'd been…nice, though. She could admit that. And when he'd said he was sorry for her mom's death, he really sounded like he meant it. And he'd found a song her mom left for her, that Julie hadn't even known about. And now she couldn't stop thinking about it.

Or him, damn it.

Julie huffed in annoyance, then got out of bed, padded to the window and yanked the curtains shut. Then she turned off her light and climbed back into bed.

She set her alarm a half-hour earlier, so she could look at the song before she went to school. She didn't have to play it.

Just wasn't sure if she hoped Luke would be in the studio in the morning, or that he wouldn't.

"See?" Julie hissed to her empty room, "you really are screwing up my life."

She hated that for a second she almost waited for an answer.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"We died, Luke," Alex said gently. "Can't get much of a bigger change than that."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gotta give the usual thanks and fic-pimping to Squeaky, who read this chapter over for me and bolstered my confidence. :D She is awesome and writes awesome JatP fic.
> 
> Bit of a longer chapter this time, too! Not quite sure how that happened, but I hope you enjoy it. ♥

Julie sang like an angel.

She was so pretty, too. Even last night when she was frazzled and annoyed, wearing that weird, yellow sweatshirt with the holes in it and those giant dinosaur slippers. And this morning, looking so put-together on the way to school….

Luke even liked the little gap in her front teeth. Hell, he thought the way she huffed at him in irritation was adorable. Seeing her upset didn't just make him anxious, it broke his heart.

Except, he'd barely met her, and he wasn't entirely sure she didn't hate him. Luke had no idea what was going on.

The garbage bag full of clothes Alex found in the loft hit the floor nearby and he nearly jumped a foot. He'd completely forgotten Alex had even gone up there.

"You okay, Luke?" Reggie asked. Reggie seemed preoccupied too, now the two girls had left for school and weren't crying anymore. Then again, so was Alex. They all had a lot of stuff going on.

It was great to have fresh clothes, though. His shirt smelled like sweat from rocking out during the soundcheck, and something else he didn't recognize, but reminded him of the air just before a storm. Luke stripped it off gratefully, then rummaged happily through the bag.

"Luke!" Alex gasped. He sounded like he had before he'd passed out in the ambulance. And died.

Luke whirled around to stare up at him, clutching a fresh shirt to his chest. "What? What is it?"

Alex's face was white. "Your back!"

"Holy cow you got words!" Reggie exclaimed at the same time.

Luke whirled to face Reggie, still clutching the shirt. "What? What words? What do you mean?"

"Words! Soulmark words! Down the center of your back!" Alex teleported right next to him, scaring the crap out of him. Alex's eyes were really, really big. "Luke, you have a soulmate."

"That's so awesome!" Reggie rushed over and gave Luke a hug, which was awkward since Luke's arms were in the way.

Luke squirmed out of Reggie's grip. "What are you talking about?" He backed up, looking between the two of them. "I don't have words! I never had words! I don't have a soulmate!"

"You do now!" Reggie chirped. He was the only one of the three of them who seemed actually happy about this. "They say: 'Who are you, and what are you doing in my mom's studio?', right down your spine." He drew a line with his index finger down the middle of Luke's back.

Luke hollered and whipped around again, glaring. "Don't do that!"

"He's right, though," Alex said. "They start between your shoulders and end right above your waistline. And, I'm pretty sure that's what Julie said to you right after you gave her that cheesy pick up line."

"It wasn't a pick up line!" Luke looked over his shoulder, but he just ended up turning in a complete circle and couldn't see anything. "You guys are messing with me. You're messing with me, aren't you? Not cool, guys!"

"We're not messing with you!" Reggie looked insulted. "They're right there!"

"I swear, Luke. You have words on your back. And I'm pretty sure they're Julie's," Alex said.

Luke tried to see them again, but he was just making himself dizzy. "Damn it." He teleported into the bathroom.

He stood with his back to the mirror, then changed his angle and looked over his shoulder until his neck hurt. And saw the words marching down his spine:

_Who are you, and what are you doing in my mom's studio?_

Yeah. That was exactly what Julie had said to him, before she'd started chasing him around with her cross. The words were deep, shiny black like a brand-new tattoo.

"Holy shit," he breathed.

He teleported back to the center of the studio, then belatedly remembered his shirt and yanked it on over his head. "Can you still see them?"

"No." Alex shook his head. "Luke, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Luke said distantly. "It's fine. Everything's fine. I've got a soulmate."

"You sure you're okay?" Reggie asked. "Because you don't look fine. You look kind of iffy."

"Maybe you should sit down." Alex led him over to the couch.

Luke sank into it. His legs did feel a bit wobbly. "I have a soulmate. Julie's my soulmate."

The other boys sat on either side of him. Alex wrapped his arm around Luke's back, and Luke leaned against him. 

"That's normally a good thing, Luke," Alex said.

"Yeah. It's great!" Reggie agreed. He put his hand on Luke's shoulder. "So, why do you look like the morning after the night we stole my parents' tequila?"

"Please don't throw up," Alex said.

"I'm not going to throw up. I haven't eaten anything in 25 years." Luke buried his face against Alex's chest. "Julie's my soulmate," he moaned into his shirt. "She's my soulmate! What am I gonna do?"

"Um, live happily ever after?" Reggie asked. "Seriously, Luke. What's wrong?"

"I don't know!" Luke sat up straight, then scrubbed his face with his palms. "I wasn't expecting this, okay? I never had a soulmate! I didn't need a soulmate! I had you guys!"

"And Bobby," Reggie added loyally.

Luke tilted his head in a small shrug. "I guess? He never really liked me much."

"Sure he did! He's just shy."

"Not really talking about Bobby here, Reg," Alex said. "It's a change, isn't it?" he asked Luke.

Luke nodded.

"You like change," Reggie said.

Luke nodded again, then shook his head. "This one's kinda big."

"We died, Luke," Alex said gently. "Can't get much of a bigger change than that."

"I think she hates me," Luke said.

"She spent a long time last night talking to someone she hates, then," Alex said.

"And she waved goodbye before, remember?" Reggie added. "Nobody waves to someone they hate. It's a fact."

Luck chuckled, though knowing Reggie he was probably serious. "Okay, maybe she doesn't hate me. But, that doesn't mean she wants to be my soulmate."

"Do you want to be hers?" Alex asked. "Cause right now, I'm not getting that impression."

Did he? Did Luke want to have some kind of unique, profound connection with an adorably beautiful angel with an incredible voice and cute gap between her front teeth?

He imagined the two of them: singing together in perfect harmony, their voices soaring over the awestruck crowd as they looked deep into each other's eyes. And then, as their last, delicate notes faded into silence, he leaned towards her and she met him halfway in a kiss—

Luke cleared his throat. "Y-yeah. Yeah. I think I want to be her soulmate."

"Great!" Reggie said happily. "So now you just gotta tell her—"

"No!" Luke blurted, so loudly that Alex and Reggie flinched. "She might not even want to be my soulmate! What if I tell her and…and she's horrified?"

"I really don't think—"

"Or!" Luke leapt in over Alex, "or maybe she's not actually my soulmate? She didn't say anything."

"Maybe she didn't know either?" Reggie asked.

"I don't think it works like that. Like, either both people are soulmates, or neither are. I mean, my parents talked about soulmates all the time, and they never mentioned that," Alex said.

"Yeah, well, sorry if I don't take your shitty, homophobic parents as authorities on relationships!" Luke crossed his arms, chewing on his lower lip. "She's probably not my soulmate. I mean, she would've said if she were, right? Why wouldn't she have said?"

"Because you didn't?" Reggie suggested.

"I didn't know!"

"Well, maybe she doesn't either!" Reggie bounced off the couch onto his feet. "I know! We can use the goggles on Julie's phone! That'll tell us if there are soulmates where only one of them is the soulmate."

"She's in school," Alex pointed out. "She probably took it with her."

Reggie looked crestfallen for a second, then snapped his fingers. "I'll bet Mr. Molina has a phone!"

"Reggie, no!" Luke lunged for him, but Reggie vanished. Luke caught himself before he faceplanted on the floor. "Shit!"

"Maybe it'll be fine," Alex said, a little breathlessly. He was staring wide-eyed at the spot Reggie had been, sweeping his palm up and down the soulmarks on his side. "Maybe Julie's father will be really happy her soulmate is a dead musician."

"Thanks, Alex, that's great," Luke said.

"Maybe we should go after him," Alex said.

They teleported out.

* * *

Ray should have been going over the pictures from his latest photoshoot, choosing the best shots to send back to his client. Instead, he was printing up PDF brochures from schools with specialized music programs. He'd go over them with Julie after dinner. At least that way she'd have options.

One of the music programs was in Australia. Maybe he was losing his mind a little. All he knew was, there was no way in hell his daughter was having music taken from her again. Not right after she'd just regained it.

He'd heard her singing in the studio that morning. Maybe it'd been getting kicked out of the Los Feliz music program. Maybe it'd been his very short pep-talk after dinner. Hell, maybe it'd been a ghost band showing up in the studio. Ray had no idea what had inspired Julie to play music again, and he honestly didn't care. But he did care that she got to keep studying it. He cared about that very, very much.

Enough to send her to Australia, God help him.

A person suddenly appeared out of thin air, right in the corner of his vision. "Hi, Mr. Molina!"

Ray startled so badly he yelled in alarm and accidentally swept the stack of paper he'd just printed off his desk and onto the floor.

"Jesus Christ! Don't do that!" he exclaimed, turning to face him. "You'll give—Reggie?"

Reggie had both his hands raised and was backing away frantically, like Ray was about to attack. He looked absolutely terrified.

Luke and Alex both appeared, just in time for Reggie to collide with them.

Ray winced, but the other two boys managed to grab Reggie and keep the three of them from tumbling to the floor.

"Reggie? What happened?" Alex asked him.

"What did you do to him?" Luke demanded at the same time.

"Nothing," Ray said immediately. He realized he'd lifted his own hands in the universal gesture of harmlessness. "He just startled me."

"I'm okay, guys," Reggie said. It would've been more believable if his face wasn't so white he actually looked like a ghost. "Mr. Molina didn't do anything."

"I think I scared you, so I did do something," Ray said gently. "That was an accident. I didn't mean to shout. You're safe here. Nobody's going to hurt you." He badly wanted to approach him, but guessed that might be the last thing the boy needed.

Luke had stopped glaring, but he still watched Ray with wary suspicion as he rubbed Reggie's back. Alex took Reggie's hand. 

"It's okay, Reggie," Alex said. "Mr. Molina wouldn't hurt us."

Ray could hear the click when Reggie swallowed in the hush of the room. "You-you can't touch me." 

"I know," Ray said, though more than anything Reggie seemed to be trying to convince himself. "But I wouldn't hurt you even if I could touch you. I would never hurt you, Reggie."

"You saw him with Julie, right?" Alex asked him. "She's not scared. She even yelled at him."

Ray forced a smile, making it as warm as he could. "I prefer it when my kids don't do that, but they both yell at me sometimes. Sometimes I yell at them. But I have never, ever hurt children."

"We're not kids," Luke said.

Now was definitely not the time to argue semantics. "I have never hurt Julie or Carlos, and I would never hurt any of you," Ray said, hoping that was clear enough. "Everyone is safe here."

"It's all right, Reginald. You can relax," Alex said.

Luke nodded, then finally turned his gaze from Ray to Reggie. "Yeah, it's okay. It was just an accident."

Ray had no idea if it was Alex using his full name, or the acceptance from Luke, but Reggie gave a tiny, shuddering nod, though he barely looked less wild-eyed than a moment before. He leaned into Luke, then tugged Alex closer. Both boys hugged him immediately.

Ray badly wished he could hug him too, but even if that were possible, he was sure Reggie wouldn't want it. He picked up the papers instead, giving the boys some privacy.

He'd thought Reggie was anxious about something the night before. At the time he'd assumed it was just the whole situation. Obviously it'd been something far different and much worse.

"Sorry," Reggie whispered behind him.

Ray turned around again, much more slowly. Reggie had come closer, flanked by his friends, though he was still well out of arms' reach. "You don't have to apologize, Reggie. You didn't do anything wrong. I'm sorry I scared you." He leaned against his desk, hoping it would make him less threatening. He kept his voice even and quiet. "Did you guys need something?"

Luke's eyes went wide. "No! We're fine!" He looked so guilty Ray almost asked what he'd done.

"Yeah, okay," Alex sighed quietly, scrubbing his face. 

"Can…can I borrow a phone for the goggles, please?" Reggie asked.

"Reggie!" Luke hissed.

"Do you mean, you want to look something up on my phone?" Ray asked. Something Luke didn't want looked up, apparently. "Is this something you shouldn't be asking about?"

"Yes!" Luke nodded frantically. "I mean, no! No, we should not be asking, sir. Good call. We'll just—"

Alex stepped on Reggie's foot. "We want to find out what we missed on the music scene over the last 25 years." 

"Ow! Wait, you can do that? Find that out?" Reggie went from confused and indignant to eagerly hopeful all at once. He also broke away from his friends to come right up to the desk.

Updating them on modern music would possibly take the rest of Ray's life. But Luke had lit up like a Christmas tree when Alex asked, and Reggie looked so excited, Ray couldn't imagine saying "no". 

And Reggie was standing next to Ray now, instead of out of reach. Ray really didn't want to spoil that either.

So instead he smiled as warmly as he could. "If you want to Google something, you can use my laptop here." He gestured at it. "It's a small computer. Modern phones are small computers too, but they work a little differently. If you want, I can show all of you how to use it?"

"You don't mind?" Reggie asked.

"No, I don't mind at all," Ray said, which was true. Teaching three teenagers modern technology would be more productive than the anxiety spiral he'd been on. And it was painfully clear Reggie—that all of them, really—needed to know Ray a lot better. This would hopefully be a good way to start.

He turned back to his computer as Luke bounded up to the desk. Alex came more slowly, slightly uncertain. Luke stood on Ray's left, while Alex stood behind Reggie, peering over his shoulder.

"That's a computer?" Alex asked. He poked at the screen, then frowned when his finger went through.

Reggie gave Ray a small, tentative smile. "Thank you, Mr. Molina."

"Please, call me Ray."

"Okay," Reggie said, then hesitated. "Thank you, Ray."

Ray beamed at him, then put his hand on the mouse. "Okay," he began, "I'm sure all of you have seen a computer before…."

* * *

It was surprisingly fun.

The boys all had seen, and used, computers before, though they'd been the giant, white desktops with separate screens that weighed a ton. Alex said his parents had owned a Macintosh, but the other boys had only used computers at school.

Unfortunately none of them could tap the keys or hold onto the mouse, but they all watched, enthralled, as Ray explained how to use his laptop. And of course they went crazy over the internet.

That actually ended up derailing the lesson. Because Ray, trying to answer Alex's question, made the mistake of introducing the boys to Spotify. And then all they wanted to do was listen to the music.

Every. Single. Piece. Of Music. Luckily, Ray was able to extract himself to make lunch before he went insane.

All the same, he was grinning to himself as he walked into the kitchen, listening to the boys enthusiastic discussion about every new song. What had happened to them was terrible, but at least they'd found one upside of missing 25 years.

It wasn't until he'd started pulling bread slices out of the bag that he realized he'd been about to make enough food for four people instead of one. As if Luke, Alex and Reggie weren't dead.

But they were dead. They couldn't eat, or sleep, or get older, or change in any way at all.

It wasn't like Ray hadn't known that. But listening to them chattering happily to each other like ordinary, living teenagers, had turned that knowledge into a startling revelation.

They were dead. His soulmate was dead. He would never be able to hug them, or watch their band become famous, or even make them sandwiches. The words on his arm had changed to medium grey, but that was because his soulmate was present in the world; not alive in it. And those words would never be black again.

Ray ended up putting the food away without making anything. He'd lost his appetite.

* * *

"Guys! _Guys!_ " Luke crowed as he teleported into the studio. "I did it! Julie's gonna ambush her teachers at the pep rally tomorrow and totally make them put her back into music class!"

The whole conversation with her had been pretty rad, actually. Julie was in that cute yellow top again, and he'd made her laugh and she'd _walked through him_ which was really strange but also kind of awesome. And they'd even sung the chorus of "Bright" together and he'd wanted to kiss her so badly but that was impossible. So he almost said, "Hey, I think I'm your soulmate" instead. Except he'd chickened out.

But she'd agreed to use her amazing, wrecking-ball voice to get back into the program! So it was still radical.

"That's really great, Luke," Alex said. Except he didn't look like it was really great. He looked exactly like he was upset about something but trying to be happy for his friend.

"Yeah. That's great," Reggie echoed. He was squished up next to Alex on the couch, and Alex had his arm around him. Reggie smiled, but it was obvious he'd been crying.

Luke went to the couch and sat down on Reggie's other side, sliding his arm across his back under Alex's. Reggie had been through a really bad moment that morning when he and Julie's dad scared the hell out of each other. Maybe this had something to do with that? "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Reggie sighed and leaned his head on Luke's shoulder. "Alex and I went to see my parents, while you were talking to Julie. But, my house isn't there anymore. It's a bike shack. And…and it's been so long, my dog has to be dead."

"That _sucks._ Man, I'm so sorry." Luke pulled Reggie a bit closer. "I didn't think about your dog." 

"S'okay," Reggie said quietly. "I didn't think about her either. Not until we were standing in front of the stupid bike shake. Why couldn't it have been a pizza place, at least?"

Alex patted Reggie's leg. "The world can't revolve around pizza, Reggie."

"Maybe we can use Google to find your parents," Luke said. "Julie has a laptop. I'm sure she'd help."

"I don't know if I want to find them," Reggie said, small-voiced. "I miss my mom, but…."

"Your dad would've whaled on you, if you'd startled him," Luke finished for him.

Reggie nodded. "I know he can't even see me now, but, it's like, my brain knows that but the rest of me keeps forgetting."

"I know what you mean," Alex said. "I keep thinking, if I go home, my folks are gonna start screaming at me about my 'choices' again. And then I have to remind myself that I'm a ghost. They can't make me do anything anymore."

"Good," Reggie said fiercely. He shifted so his head was on Alex's shoulder. "You're fine the way you are."

"Thanks, Reg." Alex kissed his hair, then made a face. "Hair gel."

"Our parents sucked," Luke said. He wished he didn't miss his so much. Why couldn't they be like Julie's parents? Ray and Rose had put Julie into a special music program, and all her dad wanted in the whole world was for her to keep singing and playing piano. Luke's parents regretted getting him a guitar, and had given him the ultimatum of giving up music for school, or leaving. So he'd left.

"I hate that I miss them," Alex said, voicing Luke's thought.

"Yeah," Reggie agreed. "I even miss my dad. Why would I miss my dad?"

"Cause he's your dad," Luke said.

"The heart wants stupid things," Alex said.

Luke and Reggie grunted in agreement. Sometimes Alex was really wise.

Luke's heart wanted Julie. That was definitely a stupid thing, at least until he knew for sure she wasn't his soulmate.

_You could just tell her._ The voice in his head sounded like Alex, so he ignored it. Alex's soulmate died when he was a little kid, so what did he know? "I wish we could use the laptop by ourselves."

"Yeah, that'd be great," Reggie said. He lifted his head. "Do you think you can order pizza on the internet? Or would we still have to call?"

"What would be the point of ordering pizza? We can't eat it," Alex said.

"Yeah, but, we could look at it?" Reggie offered.

"There's no point in buying food just to look at it," Luke said. Sure, he'd been just looking at the food in Julie's fridge, but he hadn't bought any of it. "Hey! I opened Julie's fridge, before! We could go look at the food!"

Reggie sprang up, happy again, and Luke mentally gave himself a high five. "Yeah! That's a great idea! Maybe they have pizza!"

They did not have pizza, but Reggie teleported away before Luke could tell him that. He turned to Alex, grinning.

"I swear, he has some kind of pizza fetish," Alex said, but he was smiling too.

"Last one there has to wear a sheet!" Luke said, then teleported to the kitchen. A second later Alex appeared, squawking about how unfair it was for Luke to just make up the rules.

Luke just hopped up onto the counter and taunted Alex about having to wear a sheet like a real ghost. Which of course made Reggie stop trying to grab the handle of the fridge door to insist they should all actually do that, so people could see them. Which naturally started Alex arguing with Reggie about how bad an idea it was.

Luke loved his friends so much.

And tomorrow they'd go to the pep rally to give Julie moral support, and watch her knock everyone's socks off with her killer voice. It was going to be awesome.

Maybe he'd even tell her he might be her soulmate, afterwards. Yeah, that'd be cool.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Excuse me, Dad," Julie said to him over her shoulder, smiling sweetly. "I need to go commit a murder."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Squeaky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squeaky/pseuds/Squeaky) was particularly helpful with this chapter, offering suggestions and encouragement. Her JatP fic is great, in case you are not already aware. xD
> 
> The rollercoaster metaphor is totally how I feel about this fic, btw. With a bit more lean on the terrifying part. So much thanks to all of you who've been reading this, for encouraging my nonsense. ♥

Julie eased the door open and put her finger to her lips before motioning the boys to file into the house behind her.

They didn't, of course. Well, Alex did. Luke went through the door—literally—and Reggie walked through the wall, but since they were ghosts it didn't make any noise.

Her dad was at his desk, concentrating really hard on something. Julie put her bag down silently, then crept closer, and closer, until…

"DAAAAAAD!" she hollered next to his ear, followed by the boys whooping.

He flailed and scattered the papers on the floor, which was hilarious. Sometimes the best part of being a kid was getting to torment your parents.

"I got back into the music program, Dad!" Julie yelled before he could scold her about giving him a heart attack again. "The boys helped me! It was amazing!"

"Wait, what? You did? You're back in the program? Julie, that's fantastic!" He scooped her up in a bearhug until her feet dangled off the floor. "I'm so proud of you!"

"Thanks, Dad!" she said, a little breathlessly. She squirmed so he'd put her down. "But, that's not all!"

"We were on the stage with her!" Reggie said. "And everyone could—"

"Hear us!" Luke shouted, at the same time he yanked Reggie into a headlock. "Everyone could hear us play! It was awesome!"

"I was gonna say that," Reggie complained. He was trying to work his leg around Luke's.

"Yeah." Alex bobbed his head in a nod. He was smiling, but he looked nervous. Probably because they were lying through their teeth. Hopefully her dad wouldn't notice and ask him what was wrong. "We were in the crowd, watching Julie play on the stage, and then—"

"I was just going to play the whole song on the keyboard, right?" Julie cut in, too excited to let him finish. "But then, when the rest of the band was supposed to come in, they did! They all suddenly appeared on the stage! With their instruments!"

"Like…urf…Julie called us there…oof!...with her music!" Luke managed. He and Reggie were full-on wrestling now, with each boy trying to get the other onto the floor. Julie was glad they couldn't actually damage the furniture, considering how much effort they were putting into it. Luke's arms were really—

"Julie?"

"What?" Julie blinked, then tore her gaze away from Luke's straining arms. She hoped her dad couldn't see her blushing.

"He asked if everyone could really hear us," Alex said. He was tapping the fingers of one hand on his leg, watching his friends playfight like he expected one of them to lose an eye. "Guys? Maybe tone it down a little?"

"Oh! Yeah! I told everyone it was a backup track with vocals and instruments." Julie bounced on her feet. "It was so cool, Dad! I was playing music with them! And singing! And it sounded _amazing!_ "

She put aside her guilt at lying to her papi, then hugged him again, because she was so happy.

"That's wonderful, Mija," Ray said. "I wish I could have seen it. It was nice of the principal to let you play."

"Yes!" Julie squeaked. "But, Luke is so talented, Dad!" she went on before he asked anything about the principal's niceness. "I mean, the whole band is," she amended quickly, worried she'd blush again. "They all sing really well. But Luke wrote most of the song, and it's _so good._ You should hear it! Maybe we can play it for you later?"

"Julie's really talented too!" Luke said before her dad could answer. He'd managed to hoist Reggie over his shoulder like a thrashing sack of potatoes. "Like, there's this song she wrote, for her friend—"

Julie whirled on him. "What? What song?" She gasped, realizing where the song must have come from, then advanced on him, glowering. "Were you in my room again?"

Luke went very deer-in-headlights. "Uh-oh." He vanished.

Reggie fell to the floor with a crash. "Ow!"

Alex scrubbed his face with his hand.

"Excuse me, Dad," Julie said to him over her shoulder, smiling sweetly. "I need to go commit a murder."

"Be back in time for dinner," Ray said.

* * *

Julie shoved the studio door open. "Boundaries! There are such things as boundaries, remember? And _going in my room_ is… Why are you standing on the piano?"

It was to make it harder for her to reach him, because Luke had kind of forgotten he was intangible. He may have panicked a little bit. "Just checking the view?"

She strode over to him and glared, head tilted and hands on her hips. "Get down here."

He did. "I'm sorry, okay? It's just, why are you hiding all those songs in that box? They're beautiful!"

"Don't change the subject." She crossed her arms. "What did I tell you about going in my room?"

Luke bit his lip. "…Not to?"

"Exactly. And I also told you not to go in my dream box! Would you like it if I was messing around with your stuff?"

There was absolutely no reason for that to make him blush. None at all. He cleared his throat. "No?"

Julie threw up her hands. "I don't believe you! Just, _stop,_ okay? _Stop._ Stop going in my stuff. I don't like it."

"Okay." Luke nodded. "I'm sorry. I won't do that anymore. I promise. It's just…."

She raised her perfect eyebrows. "Just what?"

_It's just that you're perfect and amazing and beautiful and I want to know everything about you_ would have been the exact wrong thing to say, so he didn't. "It's just that you're so talented. I mean, look!" He fished the song he'd maybe kind of stolen out of her dream box and unfolded it, smoothing it with his palm on the piano. "This is so good!"

The studio doors eased open, and Alex and Reggie poked their heads in.

"Is it safe yet?" Reggie asked.

Alex shot Reggie a mild glare. "Do you guys still need privacy?"

"No, it's fine," Luke said quickly. He did not want privacy with Julie. Nope. "I was just talking to Julie about this amazing song she wrote."

"Oh! The one you stole from her dream box?" Reggie teleported over.

"Yeah, it's great. We worked out a tune for it this afternoon," Alex said as he walked over from the door. "But Luke shouldn't have taken it without permission."

"Luke already got yelled at for that, thanks," Luke said. "Do you want to hear it?" he asked Julie.

"Wait." Alex put his hand up. "Before we do that." He took a breath. "I really think we should have told Ray the truth."

"No way!" Luke shook his head. "You know he just would've told us to stop!"

"I don't want to stop performing with Julie. I love that people can see us," Reggie said.

"We really don't know if he would've told us to stop," Alex said to Luke. "And now we've just lied to him."

"Luke is right, though," Julie said. "I'm sure my dad would've said we can't perform together anymore, in case someone who knew you guys sees you."

"So what if they do?" Luke demanded. "We died 25 years ago! They'll never believe it's really us."

"You told everyone we were holograms at the school," Reggie said to Julie. "So, why can't we just be holograms that look like Sunset Curve?"

"What if our parents see us? On YouTube or whatever? What if they think Julie stole our faces or something? She'll get in so much trouble! So will Ray!" Alex looked at Julie, Reggie and Luke imploringly. "We have to tell him!" He started twisting one of his rings. His breathing sped up.

"Alex. Alex. You gotta calm down, buddy. It's fine. It's all right. Nothing bad has happened, right?" Luke went to him and put his hands on Alex's arms, rubbing up and down. "Look at me. Look at me. Everything's fine. Nobody's in trouble. We're going to work this out."

"I don't like that everyone can see us," Alex said. He was still breathing too fast. "I don't understand. Why can they hear us when we perform? Why can they _see_ us when we're with Julie? Why are we even _here?_ " 

He pulled away from Luke and started pacing.

"You mean, why are we in the studio?" Reggie asked. "Julie played the CD."

"But why did that only work now?" Alex turned and started pacing in the other direction. "Ray said it was cause you and him are soulmates. But, I'm not his soulmate! Why can he see and hear me? Or Luke?"

"Because we're all connected!" Reggie said. "I'm connected to Ray cause he's my soulmate, and I'm connected to both of you cause you're my best friends. And Ray's connected to Julie cause he's her dad, and she's connected to _us_ because—"

"Because Luke's my soulmate," Julie said.

"Because we met her mom," Reggie finished. Then stared at Julie. "You are?"

They were all staring at Julie. Even Alex stopped pacing to do that. 

Julie was staring determinedly at her shoes. 

"You are?" Luke asked. He grimaced because his voice was trembling a bit. "Really? You're my soulmate?"

"Oh, wow," Reggie murmured. 

Alex grabbed him and they both vanished.

Julie nodded miserably, then tugged up the leg of her overalls.

_Well, we're all a little crazy._ was in a medium-grey circle right under her knee. "Those are the first words you said to me." She took a breath and lifted her head to look at him. "I think they're that color because you're…Well, you're not really alive, but you're not entirely dead." She shrugged, then put on a smile so sad his heart broke just looking at it. "So, you're my soulmate. But, I know I'm not yours. It's okay."

"No!" Luke shook his head frantically, then realized what that sounded like. "I mean, wait! Wait, I am your soulmate! Look!" He spun around and yanked his shirt off over his head. "See? That's what you said to me, right? Right after I said we're all crazy?"

He was amazed he could hear her soft gasp over the pounding of his heart. He looked over his shoulder, watching as she crept closer to him. She slowly reached out to trace the words, before she sighed and dropped her hand.

He hadn't wished for anything in a long time, as much as he wished right then she could touch him.

He pulled his shirt back on, then turned around. "I'm your soulmate, Julie."

She frowned at him, looking perplexed and hurt. "Why didn't you say anything?"

He opened his mouth, closed it, then shrugged. "I was scared," he admitted. "I wasn't born with a soulmate, and I never expected to get one. And then I did. And…" He thought about what Alex had said and his mouth curved in a crooked smile. "It's a big change."

She nodded. "I was born with faded words. I never thought I'd hear them." She swallowed. "I thought you didn't react when I said my first words to you because we weren't really soulmates."

"No, it was nothing like that!" Luke stepped closer, reaching automatically for her hand, but his fingers just went through. He grimaced and pulled his hand back. "I didn't even know I had words on me until Alex saw them. And then I wasn't sure if I'd said yours. And, you know." He gave her a tiny shrug and apologetic smile. "Scared."

"I was scared too," Julie said.

"But you still told me. You're so brave, Julie. Braver than me." And he was already crazy about her.

She grinned. It was a bit shy and so sweet it warmed him to his intangible bones. "You make me want to be brave."

He beamed at her, then reached for her again, pulled to her like a wave to the shore. But when he cupped her face his hand slipped through like air. He yanked his hands back to his sides, closing them into fists.

Julie looked as disappointed as he felt. She gently traced her fingertip through his chin. "I wish I could touch you."

"Yeah." He sighed. "This sucks."

"No it doesn't," she said simply, "you're here."

Reggie teleported in next to them before Luke could answer, startling them both. "Sorry to interrupt, but Alex is really freaking out."

* * *

Alex paced in front of the studio, back and forth between the studio doors and where the stairs began that led back to the house. There was a metal gate at the top, which kind of fit since he felt a lot like a big cat at a badly-made zoo: like if he didn't keep moving he'd claw himself out of his skin.

He thought about teleporting into the studio and playing his drums—there were people in there, so it'd be okay—except he didn't want to bother Luke and Julie when they were talking about something important. And his hands were shaking so hard he didn't think he could hold his drumsticks anyway. They'd probably just vibrate through his fingers.

He didn't understand why holding his drumsticks was easy, at least most of the time, but he could barely touch anything else. There was _so much_ he didn't understand, and it was strange and confusing and he didn't think he'd ever been this scared in is life, except when he came out to his parents.

That hadn't turned out well.

Luke and Reggie appeared, almost right next to him. And that was _another_ thing he didn't understand: how could they just go anywhere they wanted to? And how come they never ended up inside walls or other people?

"Why doesn't any of this make sense?" he demanded out loud. He scraped his fingers through his hair, feeling them tremble against his scalp. He could feel his heart pounding, and his lungs moving too fast as he breathed. But he was dead; there was no reason for him to feel anything.

"Alex, you gotta get off the runway, bro! You're making yourself crazy for nothing." Luke tried to intercept him, but Alex just ducked around and headed back the other way.

"Yeah, well, we're all a little crazy, right?" Alex snarled at him. "I thought you liked that."

"Hey," Luke said, hurt.

"He means crazy in a fun way," Reggie said. "Not what you're doing."

"Sorry," Alex muttered. "It's just, I'm not like you. I hate change, okay? I hate it! And all that's been happening is change! First we died, then we get called back by a CD. Or maybe it's the girl playing the CD. Who knows, right?" He blasted out a shaky breath, twisting one of his rings. "And then people can hear us! And then we're suddenly on stage at the school, and…." He stopped, facing the others. " _Why?_ Why is this all happening? Why can I feel my clothes? And my heartbeat? Why could Julie see and hear us right away, but Ray could only see and hear us when you said his words?"

Julie had joined them, standing next to Luke. "I thought we figured that out. It's because we're all connected—"

"We're not connected to anything!" Alex threw up his hands, then started pacing again. "I mean, okay. Sure. You're Luke's soulmate and Ray is Reggie's. Great. But that still doesn't explain why you could see us as soon as we showed up, but he couldn't. And you're both connected to Carlos too, right? So how come your little brother can't see or hear us? Or your friend Flynn? And why can you and Ray both see me? I'm not your soulmate! And, and look! Look at this!"

He shrugged off his jacket, letting it drop to the ground. He had no idea why they could wear their old clothing either. He could sort-of buy Luke's theory their instruments were attached to their souls, but their clothing? Alex didn't even like some of his stuff. It was just all he had when his parents kicked him out.

He yanked his arm out of his T-shirt sleeve and pulled it up enough to show his words. _Aw, you dinged my board!_ was black. Black like when he was born. "See?"

"Holy shit," Luke breathed.

"Oh, wow, Alex! That's great! Your soulmate's alive!" Reggie said happily.

Most of the time, Alex really appreciated Reggie's optimism. This was not one of them. "My soulmate did not just come back from the dead, Reggie!"

"Wait. Your soulmate was dead? Like mine?" Julie asked him.

"Yeah. Since he was eight," Luke said. "His words were super faded."

"Sure were." Alex let out a miserable non-laugh, dropping his shirt back into place. "And guess when they went black again?"

"When you appeared in my mom's studio," Julie guessed.

"Yup." He went back to his pacing. "So, apparently my soulmate's a ghost too, right? Except, black soulmarks are for living people! Not dead people! Everyone knows that!"

"But you're both dead together. So maybe that's like being alive," Reggie said.

"Alex. Dude," Luke said, trying to get in front of him again. "This is a good thing! You have a soulmate! And…and you can be with him, like for real." He glanced back at Julie, and he, Julie and Reggie looked so deflated for a moment, Alex felt like a terrible person for complaining about anything.

But. "You don't know that," he said. "None of us know that! None of us know anything. And it's just…" He stopped pacing again. Even the constant movement was getting to him now. He felt like crying. He felt like vanishing and never coming back. "I need to get out of here. I just, I need to go."

They all looked like they wanted to stop him. He teleported away before they could, leaving his jacket on the ground.

* * *

Alex reappeared on Hollywood Boulevard.

He hadn't meant to teleport there. He hadn't been thinking of a destination at all, other than "away". Maybe he'd ended up here because it had good memories: wandering around with Luke, Reggie, and later Bobby as well; taking pictures with the Walk of Fame Superman using Reggie's Polaroid camera; pooling their money for hotdogs, always making sure they went to a vendor who had vegetarian ones for Bobby. Alex had tried one, once. They tasted pretty bad, but Bobby insisted if you put on enough mayonnaise you couldn't tell the difference.

Staying out way too late and crashing in Bobby's folks' garage, then skipping school the next day to rehearse instead.

That had actually been about the best time in Alex's life, right before he came out to his parents. Things got kind of bad after that for a while. But he always had his band. His friends.

Bobby had somehow convinced his parents to let them stay in the garage, after he, Reggie and Luke had either been kicked out or run away. Bobby had been really kind, for all that he didn't seem to like hanging around any of them that much. Alex hoped he had a good life after they died.

He sighed, finally able to slow his agitated pace, now he was away from the studio and everyone. There was plenty of stuff here to distract him from the chaos in his head, and moving with a purpose always felt better than aimless pacing, even if he didn't actually have anywhere to go.

It was a little dicey with the Ghostbusters for a second, but that was all right. He was just glad nobody could see him looking like an idiot.

And then some dickwad crashed into him from behind and sent them both sprawling.

The two of them lay groaning and coughing on the sidewalk for a long moment, while Alex worked on sucking air back into his lungs. The guy who'd hit him wasn't small. Alex finally wobbled back to his feet just as the other guy got up too.

"Aw, you dinged my board!" he moaned, staring at the thing like Alex had just murdered his pet.

"'I dinged your board'?" Alex demanded, incensed. "Dude, you ran me over! You're lucky…" He froze, staring. "Oh, my God. You're my soulmate."

The guy—Alex's _soulmate_ —grinned. "Hi."

Alex was too stunned to smile back. He was still working on making words. "You…you're a ghost."

"Yeah," the other ghost said, like it was obvious. He tucked his board under his arm. "Ever since I learned the hard way that…" He stopped speaking to bend over and take off his helmet. Which not only showed the horrifying crack in the grey plastic, but also let him flip back his hair.

He had really nice hair. And really pretty, soft brown eyes. And awesome cheekbones. And Alex really needed to stop staring at him with his mouth open.

"Skating in traffic is bad," the ghost said.

It took a moment for Alex to remember what they'd actually been talking about. Which was long enough to be sure the skater ghost had noticed Alex's immediate, visceral attraction. And following _that_ was just fear, because _the skater ghost noticed Alex was attracted to him._ And that had never gone well. Never, ever, ever. Alex had worked so hard to hide what he was, just so that wouldn't happen….

Except, "Hey, sorry for smashing into you," the skater ghost said, instead of demanding what the hell Alex was looking at, or what was wrong with him, or worse. "I thought you were a Lifer, and I'd just pass right through."

Alex couldn't answer immediately, too busy wrenching his heart out of his throat. "L-Lifer?"

"Yeah. That's what we call people who are alive." The ghost chuckled. "You're kind of new to all this, aren't you?"

Alex nodded. He realized he'd started tapping his leg and shoved his hands into his pockets. "I guess it…it's pretty obvious, huh?" He hoped his smile looked genuine, but his heart was still hammering so hard he wondered if the Lifers around them could hear it. Like a performance.

"A little, yeah." The skater ghost smiled again, but then apparently registered how close Alex was to losing it. "Are you okay?"

"Um, no. Not really," Alex said honestly. He took a breath. "I'm sort of having an afterlife crisis?" He'd tried to make that a joke, but his laugh just came out creaky and fake. "I don't understand any of this. I just…I don't know what's happening."

"Whoa, yeah. I get it." The skater ghost nodded. "It was like that for me too, right after I died. All my life I'd been told that when you died, you'd finally get all the answers, right? But all I got was more questions." He gave Alex another smile; it was as if his natural state was being happy. Alex wished he knew what that was like. "Which means it's your lucky day, since now I'm basically a ghost Wikipedia."

"A what?"

The skater ghost laughed. "I'll explain later." He held out his hand. "I'm Willie."

Alex took his hand. "Alex."

They held hands for maybe a second too long. Maybe even two seconds. And Alex was almost sure Willie's eyes swept him up and down before he let go. And when Willie smiled yet again, it was like….

Like he'd noticed Alex was attracted to him, but he didn't mind. Because maybe he was attracted to Alex too.

The idea of it, of something happening between them that wasn't just acceptable to Willie, but reciprocated, was exhilarating and terrifying. The good kind of terrifying, like being at the top of a rollercoaster. Alex didn't like rollercoasters much, but he was beginning to see why Luke and Reggie did.

"You're my soulmate," he repeated, because that was exhilarating and terrifying too.

Willie grinned. He had a face made for smiling. "Yup."

"I didn't know ghosts could have soulmates," Alex said. The elation he'd felt tumbled like bricks, exposing the raw bones of lurking dread. "I don't know anything about being a ghost at all. None of it makes sense. My words were greyed out since I was eight years old, until the day before yesterday! Now they're black, but you're dead! We're both dead. How is any of this possible? Shouldn't we be in heaven?"

"Whoa. Slow down, Hotshot!" Willie laughed, but he put his hand on Alex's arm, like he knew automatically that would help ground him. "We got time, dude," he said, and now his smile was kind. "One thing about being dead, we got all the time in the world."

"Doesn't feel like it," Alex rasped. "It feels like something terrible's about to happen. But I don't know what it is, so I can't stop it."

Willie looked at him for a moment, like he was just taking him all in. Alex wondered what he saw, other than a twitchy blond in a purple T-shirt.

Willie nodded, like he'd made a decision. "Tell you what." He let go of Alex's arm, then held out his hand. "Come with me, and I'll answer all your questions."

"You will?" Alex asked eagerly, then frowned. "Wait. Where are we going?"

Willie lifted his hand a little, like he was reminding Alex it was there, being offered. He smiled like a challenge. "Trust me?"

They'd just met. Alex never trusted anyone he'd just met. That wasn't going to change, even if Willie was his soulmate.

But Alex really wanted to trust him.

He took Willie's hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't tell you how happy I am to finally write Alex's POV. I love all the boys, but he's my favorite.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"I don't know if I want to spend forever like this," Alex said quietly._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Squeaky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squeaky/works) was tremendously helpful with the first scene. Mad props to my awesome Alpha reader. :D

"So," Ray said, after they'd finished saying grace. "Do I have to help you hide the body?"

Carlos snapped his head up from his intense scrutiny of his salad. "Did Julie kill someone?" He looked like he didn't quite believe it, but was willing to be openminded.

Julie smirked and shook her head. "No, Carlos. I didn't actually kill anyone. I was just really mad about something. But they apologized."

She sounded happy enough, but Ray noted she immediately went back to poking at her chicken. Something was definitely on her mind.

"Who was it?" Carlos asked eagerly, the little gossip. "Flynn? Ooh!" He leaned forward, holding up his fork and knife by the handles. "Was it Carrie?"

"Carlos, that's not appropriate," Ray said. But he also hadn't missed Julie's grimace when her brother mentioned Flynn. "Is everything okay between you and Flynn?"

Julie shrugged, but she meticulously kept her eyes on the chicken. "She got mad at me today, after the…" She glanced at Carlos. "Music thing at school I told you about. I hadn't told her what I was planning, and she was upset because she thought I was keeping it secret on purpose."

"What music thing?" Carlos asked.

"Julie got back into the music program," Ray said. He reached out and squeezed Julie's hand. He was still incredibly proud of her about that, as well as relieved. He hadn't wanted to send her to Australia.

"That's great!" Carlos whooped, and Julie grinned back at him. But then he frowned, confused. "But, why would that be a secret?"

"It's not that part," Julie said. Her mouth went thorough a few intricate twitches as she tried to figure out what to say. "It's complicated. Girl stuff. You wouldn't understand."

Carlos rolled his eyes. "You always say that when you just don't want to talk about something."

"Well, maybe I don't want to talk about it!"

"Julie, you don't have to be rude to your brother," Ray said. "And Carlos, if your sister would rather not talk about something, please respect that. Why don't you tell us about your day instead? You said something really funny happened during lunch?"

Carlos obligingly launched into his story. It was pretty funny, and it led into a conversation about other funny incidents at school that lasted through the rest of the meal. Julie was still quieter than normal, though. Carlos was enjoying the spotlight so Ray didn't think he noticed, but Ray definitely did.

"Julie, why don't you help me clean up tonight, since Carlos did it most recently?" Ray asked her.

"Yes! Thanks, Dad!" Carlos scooted out of his seat and fled.

"You seem upset, Mija," Ray said as soon as Carlos was out of earshot. "What's wrong? Is it Flynn?"

Julie nodded. "Yeah. But, not just her. Alex had an anxiety attack, before. At least, I think that's what it was. Luke and Reggie said he gets them a lot, where he just…freaks out about something and can't calm down. He ended up poofing out, the way they do. But, it's been hours and he hasn't come back."

"So you're worried," Ray filled in the rest.

"Yeah. They said it's pretty normal for him, and that he'll come back when he's ready. But…." She shrugged unhappily as she finished stacking the plates. "I don't like the idea of him being somewhere out there by himself. Even if he is a ghost."

"I don't like it either, Mija." Ray hugged her around the shoulders. "Does he do that a lot?"

"Not that often, but sometimes." Julie went to put the plates in the dishwasher, and Ray followed her into the kitchen with the cutlery and leftover salad. "But, Luke and Reggie told me Alex has been doing this for years, even when he was alive. And he always came back. And now he's a ghost…." She shrugged as she began washing her hands. "It's not like anything can hurt him?"

That was true, of course. But Ray couldn't help being worried now too. "When I was his age, I know I would've wanted someone to come after me." He put the cutlery into the dishwasher's basket. "Maybe I should go after him. Do you think his friends would know where he went?"

"I wanted them to," Julie said. "They can poof over to wherever he is just by thinking about it. But, they both insisted he'd be fine, and it was better to leave him alone."

"I guess they'd know, wouldn't they?" Ray said as he took his turn at the sink. "They certainly know him better than I do." He sighed as he dried his hands. "Poor kids. It sounds like they've only had each other to depend on for a long time."

"Well, they have us now, too," Julie said.

"Yes, they do." Ray nodded, then smiled at his daughter. "I need to work on making sure they know that, huh?" He blinked, caught on a sudden thought. "Dios," he murmured. "I keep forgetting they're dead." He rubbed his forehead. "I hate that I keep forgetting they're ghosts."

"I keep forgetting too," Julie said sadly. She leaned against the counter, a picture of adolescent misery. "Maybe if I didn't, I'd figure out what to say to Flynn."

"Mija?" Ray blinked at the sudden change in her demeanor. "You said she was angry…what happened?"

"She ghosted me," Julie said, then winced. "I mean, she won't answer my texts. It's like, I keep _one thing_ from her and we can't be friends anymore! That's just…why won't she even give me a chance?"

Ray leaned against the counter next to her. "Music is really important to you both. I guess, when you suddenly had a brand-new backup band you didn't tell her about, she probably felt betrayed."

"I wasn't trying to betray her!" Julie threw her hands up, then crossed her arms and leaned heavily into her father's side. "I just…It happened so suddenly. And it's so weird. I don't know how to explain." She hung her head. "I really wasn't trying to betray her."

"I know you weren't. But I think maybe Flynn is the one who needs to hear that, Mija." Ray put his arm around her, gently tugging her to him. "Personally, I find that if you have to explain something, the best way to do it is to start at the beginning. Just tell her, Mija."

"She'll think I'm crazy."

"What if I'm there too?"

Julie tilted her head back so she was looking up at him, which was a lot like rolling her eyes. "Then she'll think we're both crazy."

"What if you and the boys play her a song, then? That way she can see they're not just some kind of soundtrack."

"Yeah, the boys suggested that already." Julie looked down at her feet. "Luke wants me to play the song I wrote for her."

That was probably the one Luke had apparently taken without permission. It seemed they'd sorted that out, so Ray didn't mention it. "That sounds like a really good idea."

"I know. But, Alex isn't here," Julie said unhappily. "We can't have the band without him."

"Ay. That's tough." Ray winced on her behalf, then kissed the top of her head. "What if you text her again and ask her to come over after school tomorrow, so you can explain what's been going on? Alex will be back by then, I'm sure." He really hoped Alex would be back by then.

"Okay," Julie said, though she didn't sound terribly enthusiastic. "I'll just have to live through another 24 hours with her hating me. If she even reads the text."

"It's Flynn," Ray said. "She'll come over out of curiosity, if nothing else."

Julie smirked a little. "That is true."

* * *

Alex and Willie materialized in the ornate lobby of what looked like an old, very swank hotel. Everything gleamed, from the massive chandeliers, dripping with teardrop-shaped crystals, to the oppressive mahogany of the reception desk, to the snow-white marble floor.

Alex had never been in such luxurious surroundings in his life. He still hadn't, he realized with a pang. But being dead didn't make him any less uneasy.

Every single polished, glossy inch of the place seemed to whisper, _you don't belong._

There was no one around besides the two of them. Alex could hear the painful hammering of his nonexistent heart in the plush, overwhelming silence.

"Um, what. What are we doing here?" He couldn't help looking around as he spoke, expecting someone to rush up any second and tell him to get the hell out.

Willie, of course, just laughed and gave him another one of his brilliant, ready smiles. "Here? This is nothing, man. Come on." He tugged on Alex's hand, which was when Alex realized they'd never let go of each other. "It's fine. I promise. This is my boss' digs. He knows I come around after hours. It's totally cool."

"Cool" was the right word. In the sense that the whole place felt aloof and cold, as if waiting for occupants who would never come. Willie didn't seem to share that sense at all, though. He cheerfully led Alex down a burnished hallway to the upper level of what looked like a giant restaurant. Or maybe a ballroom. There was a sign on the wall that said _Hollywood Ghost Club_ in old-fashioned, gold lettering. The lower floor had scores of tables, each with an elegant crystal candleholder. They were all set in front of an enormous, multi-tiered stage.

Willie pointed at it. "Caleb—that's my boss—he does shows there." He tugged Alex's hand again, and they went down the grand staircase together. 

Alex was so busy staring at everything he almost tripped. Willie steadied him with a laugh.

"Wild, huh?"

"Yeah," Alex said. He swallowed. "That-that's one way of putting it."

Willie stopped walking to face him. "Seriously, it's okay. Nobody's gonna kick us out. I'm free to come and go here all the time." He pushed Alex's bangs softly back from his forehead, then smirked when they just slid forward again. "This is my world, Hotshot. I just want to share it with you."

Alex nodded. Willie saying that, so obviously wanting Alex with him, made the whole building feel warmer, somehow. Like maybe it really was okay if Alex was there too. He smiled back, relaxing a little.

Willie led him around the back of the staircase, and then through the tables to a set of large double doors that obviously led to a kitchen.

Here, it wasn't quiet or oppressive at all. It was full of noise, light, and people: chefs and their staff moving around in the coordinated chaos of a large, well-stocked, working kitchen.

Alex startled, bobbing back and automatically dropping Willie's hand.

Willie just smiled at him and took Alex's hand again. "Hey, Zephrine!" he called to one of the woman.

She turned, scowling, then broke into a smile when she saw him and bustled over. "Willie! It's good to see you!" She had kind eyes, an accent Alex thought might be French, and a big, beautiful smile that reminded Alex of Willie. "And you brought a friend," she noted. Her gaze immediately dipped to their joined hands and Alex froze, but if anything her smile just widened.

"Zephrine, this is Alex. Alex, Zephrine. She's one of the cooks here."

"I make the pastries, which is why Willie is my friend." She winked at Alex and grinned, then ushered them behind her. "Come. I'll get something nice for you."

She walked through two of the long tables other people (ghosts? Were they all ghosts?) were working at: chopping meat and vegetables, rolling and kneading dough. Willie followed, tugging Alex behind him. A couple of the cooks looked annoyed, but nobody seemed surprised or even interested to see them.

"Here. Sit." Zephrine gestured at a free table.

Alex climbed a little uncertainly onto a high stool at one end. Willie set his board and helmet down on the floor at his feet, then joined him.

Zephrine vanished for a moment—literally—then reappeared with a plate balancing an enormous wedge of chocolate cake. And two forks. She placed it between Alex and Willie with another wink. "Bon appétit!"

Alex was still blinking at the cake, which smelled delicious, when Willie picked up his fork, casually broke off a piece, and ate it.

"Try some. It's really good."

Alex stared at the cake, then at Willie. "You're _eating_ it? You can eat?"

"Yup." Willie grinned at him. "Here we can. It's one of the perks."

Alex hesitated, then tried to pick up the fork. It was as easy as it had ever been when he was alive.

"Things work a little differently here," Willie said gently, as if he could see the confusion careening around Alex's head. "Believe me, when I first got to the Hollywood Ghost Club? I was just as floored as you." He nudged Alex's shin with his. "Go ahead, Hotshot. Try it."

"I'm not a hotshot," Alex murmured, forking up some cake.

"But you are hot," Willie said, just as Alex was putting it into his mouth.

The cake was delicious, which was nice considering Alex nearly choked on it. Which should have been impossible but somehow wasn't. Willie obligingly pounded him on the back, though it wasn't very helpful considering he was laughing too hard to do much. Luckily Alex managed to swallow everything before he coughed cake chunks all over the kitchen.

"Sorry," Willie said at Alex's glare. He was trying so hard not to start laughing again, Alex couldn't help laughing either. And then they spent a while just setting each other off.

"I hate you," Alex said, when they were finally able to stop. 

"Uh-huh," Willie said, still grinning. He forked up another piece of cake and held it out. "Peace offering?"

Alex barely hesitated before he took it, just like he'd taken Willie's hand.

"So! Questions?" Willie said brightly when they'd finished the cake. Zephrine had also brought over two coffees in tiny little cups, then smiled and patted Willie's cheek when he'd thanked her.

Alex held the little cup between his fingers, marveling at the warmth of it. "How come we can eat and hold stuff here?"

"Well, the eating? That I'm not too sure about. I think that's a Caleb thing. He's really old, and really powerful. Ghosts can do all kinds of things here they can't do in the normal world." It was clear by Willie's face just how much he respected and admired this Caleb. Alex hoped he could meet him. And that Caleb would like him, too. "Like, here we can eat, and Lifers can see and hear us."

"Lifers can see and hear you?" Alex asked, amazed.

"Uh-huh." Willie nodded, grinning at Alex's astonishment. "Pretty groovy, right?"

"Yeah," Alex said. He looked around the kitchen, as if the large room could somehow explain what he'd just heard. "But, just here? In the club, I mean."

"Just here," Willie confirmed. "Out there, as far as Lifers know, we don't exist. The holding stuff, though…that's just practice."

"Practice?"

"Totally! Hang on." Willie slid off his stool, then lifted it and held it out. "Take it."

Alex tried, but his hands just went through.

"Okay, try this," Willie said, still holding the stool. "Concentrate on your hands. Like, focus all your energy into your hands. Then you'll be able to do it."

Alex grimaced. "You might've noticed I'm kind of anxious? Focusing isn't really…it's not something I'm good at."

"Yeah, I've kinda noticed." Willie chuckled. He tilted his head, thinking, then put the stool down between Alex's knees. Then he came closer, until he was standing pressed to Alex's side. He wrapped his hand around Alex's closer one. "Just focus on your hands. You can do it."

It was very hard to focus on anything other than the solidity of Willie's touch and the very lifelike warmth of his skin. But Alex didn't want to let him down, so he did his best.

He focused on his hands: how they felt cold because he was nervous; the brush of air moving over them from the vents in the room; the warmth of Willie's hand around his right one.

He wrapped his fingers around the seat of the stool, concentrating on the feel of the wood, the smoothness and solidity. And lifted.

The stool came right up, so easily Alex nearly toppled backwards.

"Whoa!" Willie steadied him before he went over, then kept his hands on him while Alex put the stool down. "You did it, Hotshot," he said, smiling up at him. His eyes were full of warmth, and obvious pride in Alex's tiny accomplishment.

It would have been really, really easy to just lean down a bit and kiss him.

Blood rushed to Alex's face, and his heart thumped with that same rollercoaster fear. He pulled his gaze away with an effort. "Thanks," he managed.

The way Willie paused and blinked before he said, "Anytime," with his usual confident ease, made Alex wonder if maybe Willie had wanted Alex to lean down and kiss him too.

If he had, he didn't mention it. Willie just hopped back up on the stool, all happy attentiveness. "All right, that was one question. What else?"

"Okay. How come my friends and I were stuck in a big, black room after we died, instead of going to heaven? And why were we stuck in there until Julie played our CD? I mean, why Julie? Why not her mom? And why can only Julie and her dad see and hear us all the time, but other Lifers can hear us play music, and everyone can see and hear us when we play with Julie? And, why could Julie see us right away, when her dad couldn't? And why can Julie and her dad see me, when I'm not their soulmate? And—"

"Whoa! Whoa!" Willie put up his hands, shaking his head with a bemused grin on his face. "Take a chill pill. I feel like I'm drinking from the firehose."

"Sorry." Alex winced, chagrined. "There's just…so much stuff I don't understand."

"I get it. Believe me. I get it." Willie put his hand over one of Alex's, which was in a tight fist on the table. "I promise, I'll tell you as much as I know. But, you need to start at the beginning. Like, first off, what friends? Did you die with someone else?"

"Yeah." Alex nodded. "My bandmates. We, uh. We ate bad hotdogs?"

Willie blinked. "Weirdly, that's what killed Mozart."

"That's actually comforting." Alex was also pretty sure that was wrong, but it was nice of Willie to say anyhow.

"And did you say you guys were in a black room, after you died?"

"Yeah. A big, black room. We couldn't see anything."

"That sounds terrible." Willie looked pained, like he couldn't think of much worse. "I'm sorry, I don't know anything about that. The first thing I remember after I died was standing next to my body."

That sounded much worse, actually. "I'm sorry."

Willie shrugged. "Thanks, but, it's okay. It was a long time ago. So, who's Julie?"

"Oh, Julie." Alex couldn't help smiling, thinking of her. "She rescued us! Like, we were in that room, right? And then all of a sudden we heard one of our songs, and bam! We're back in the studio we used to practice in. Julie's family own it now, and she was playing one of our songs. And it called us back. She's a singer too. We want her to join our band. But, we found out her mom played our CD a couple times, and we never came back before now."

Willie nodded as he listened. "Okay, cool. I'm with you. What was that about her dad? And soulmates?"

"Okay, this is a bit more complicated." Alex explained how Julie could see and hear them immediately, even before Luke said her words, but Ray couldn't until Reggie said his. And about how Reggie and Julie thought they were connected, but Alex wasn't sure. And then how nobody else could see or hear his band unless they were playing music, and how only performing with Julie let people see them too. "Have you ever heard of anything like that?"

"No, man. I haven't. I'm sorry," Willie said, looking genuinely apologetic. "My words stayed black, and then I met you. That's all I know about the soulmate stuff." He grinned, and purposely brushed his leg against Alex's. It was the leg with Alex's words on it, partly visible under the cuff of his jean shorts. "And I have no idea about Lifers being able to see and hear you. I really thought that could only happen here." He pursed his lips, thinking. "Except, maybe your friends are right, and it's because of the connection thing? But not because they're soulmates, but because Julie is connected to your unfinished business."

"Sure," Alex said, nodding seriously. "Except I have no idea what that is."

"Oh!" Willie chuckled. "Well, it's the stuff you were supposed to get done, before you died. Why you're still here as ghosts, instead of in heaven. Or wherever."

"Our unfinished business," Alex repeated, thinking about it. "What do you think it is?"

"Wish I knew." Willie shrugged. "I don't even know what mine is, and I've been dead for way longer than I've been alive."

That seemed kind of sad. And frightening. "I don't know if I want to spend forever like this," Alex said quietly.

"What? You're skipping out on me already?" Willie nudged his leg playfully again. "We just met!" He slid off his stool, then bent to gather his things off the floor. "Come on. Tonight's rehearsal's going to start soon. You can meet some of the other ghosts who hang out here. Caleb might be there too, though he mostly comes right before the show."

"I'm not skipping out on you," Alex said seriously, because he was almost sure he caught a flicker of…something in Willie's eyes. Sadness. Or fear. He got off his stool as well. "I'm really glad I met you, Willie." He held out his hand.

Willie stopped, then beamed at him. "Me too." He took Alex's hand. "Ready to see something cool?"

"Yeah," Alex said.

They vanished together.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"You'll still be my soulmate, Luke."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had so much fun writing this chapter. xD
> 
> [Squeaky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squeaky) was of course awesomely helpful. Her JatP fic is also awesome, and entirely finished now. Unlike this one.

Julie went back to the studio after dinner. She told her dad it was to work on some music homework with Reggie and Luke, but really it was just to be around them while she let herself mope about Flynn.

It was mostly to be around Luke; she could admit that to herself. Reggie was great, but Luke was her soulmate. He was special. He made her feel special. She really wished she could touch him.

Well, she wished she could touch all of them. Her new friends, her soulmate, being intangible was one of the worst things she'd had to live through. And she'd already experienced the absolute worst.

Losing Flynn's friendship would be one of the worst things, too. 

Julie checked the text she'd sent an hour ago again, but there was still no "read" indication. She sighed, rolling over on the couch so her chin hung off the seat and her hand dragged on the floor. "Where's Alex?" she moaned. "I want Flynn to be able to see you guys!"

"He'll come back, Julie," Reggie said. He poked his tongue out of his mouth while he noodled out something on his bass. Luke was leaning on the piano, bopping his head and tapping his pen along to the beat. "How about that for the chorus?"

"I think it rocks," Luke said. He grinned, then shook out his arms and cracked his neck. Julie enjoyed watching that. "Wanna give it a run through?"

"I don't know." Julie sat up slowly, then flopped back against the couch. "Can't you just go find him? Is he normally gone this long? What if something happened to him?"

"Oh, this is nothing. One time he disappeared for a whole night," Reggie said cheerfully, though Julie didn't miss the way his eyes cut to the doors, like he hoped Alex would come through them.

Julie sat up straight, eyes wide. "All _night?_ "

"That was just once." Luke narrowed his eyes at Reggie. "And it happened way before we died. He's probably just walking around Hollywood Boulevard or something. He does that when he needs to chill out." He got his guitar and put the strap over his shoulder, then started a few warmup chords. "Nothing's gonna happen to him anyway. He's a ghost. We're like, immortal."

"Immortal ghost bros!" Reggie held up his palm.

Luke obligingly gave him a high five before he went back to playing. "C'mon, Julie. Get up here. I want to hear you sing it."

The big, warm smile he gave her was temptation enough, and Julie dragged herself off the couch and all the way to the keyboard they'd set up next to Reggie's spot. "We can work on the piano part, but I don't really feel like singing."

Luke stopped playing to look at her. "Are you really that worried?"

"Yeah." Julie nodded. "Well, not just about Alex. I've known Flynn forever, and she's never been this mad before. I really hurt her."

"You'll make it up to her, Julie," Luke said, full of gentle confidence.

He smiled again, and she smiled back, and his eyes were so pretty, and he had such a nice smile, and she could just stand there and look at him—

Alex appeared, sitting on the piano. "Hi, guys! What'd I miss?"

"Alex!" Reggie threw his guitar over his back and hugged Alex around the waist. "Where have you been? I was so worried!"

"Um. Oh. Sorry?" Alex looked startled, then like he didn't know where to put his hands, since so much guitar was in the way. He ended up by petting Reggie's head. He looked at Luke and Julie, bafflement all over his face. "You were worried?"

"Of course we were worried, dumbass!" Luke put his guitar down, then teleported himself on top of the piano. He put his arm around Alex's neck and gave him a noogie. "I hate it when you just take off like that! What if something happened to you? Julie was worried sick!"

Julie was pretty sure who had actually been the worried sick one of the two of them. But she definitely had been worried, so she didn't argue.

"Ow! Ow! Hey, cut it out!" Alex teleported away from both of them, then ducked behind Julie. "I was fine! I made a ghost friend!"

"A ghost friend?" Reggie put his bass on its stand and trotted over, Luke right behind. "You made a ghost friend? What ghost friend? How did you meet another ghost?"

Alex stepped away from Julie and put his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels. His grin was endearingly shy. "Well, he crashed into me with his skateboard."

"Oh my God!" Julie exclaimed, "are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Alex said, and if anything his grin got wider. "But I dinged his board."

That was apparently some kind of code, if the expressions on his friends' faces were anything to go by. They both looked like they were trying to figure out something important, then Luke's eyes went huge.

"You met a surfer!" Reggie said.

"No, Reg, he met his _soulmate,_ " Luke said. He turned back to Alex, expression alight. "Seriously? You met your soulmate?"

Alex nodded, then blushed. Julie had no idea how ghosts could do that. "Yeah."

"Alex! That's fantastic!" Julie clapped her hands, all but bouncing with happiness for him. She managed to stop herself from giving him a hug before she lost her balance and fell through him. That only dimmed her enthusiasm a little bit. "I'm so happy for you!"

"Thanks," Alex said, still shy. Then he grunted in surprise when Reggie walloped him into a hug again. This time Luke joined in. "You guys were right. He was a ghost, just like me. All this time! And then we met!"

"Seriously, bro. I'm so happy for you." Luke thumped Alex's back a couple times before he let go of him.

Reggie stepped back as well. "This is so great! Now we all have soulmates! So, where is he?"

"He had to work," Alex said. "But he really wants to meet you guys."

"Ghosts work?" Julie asked. She looked at Luke, who shrugged.

"Some do, yeah." Alex nodded. "He works for a place called The Hollywood Ghost Club. Rich Lifers go there so they can interact with ghosts. They do musical shows almost every night, and there's food! Food that we can eat! Oh, my God, guys, I have so much to tell you!"

Reggie looked astounded. "There's food? Like, pizza?"

"Yup." Alex laughed, nodding. "Willie and I shared a piece of cake! It was really good!"

"Ooh, you shared _cake_ with your _soulmate_ , huh?" Luke nudged Alex with his elbow, smiling knowingly. "And it was _good_ , huh? The _cake?_ "

"Shut up," Alex mumbled, blushing again. His face was very red.

Luke cackled. 

"Much as I want to hear about the cake," Julie said, just to see Alex melt with embarrassment, "what do you mean, Lifers can interact with ghosts there? Are Lifers living people?"

"Yeah!" Alex nodded again. "It's like, this giant, really old hotel, though it looks new inside. And if you're there, Lifers can see and talk to you! Willie said there're plenty of people who'll pay lots of money to get to see real ghosts."

"Who's Willie?" Reggie asked.

"Oh, he's my ghost friend," Alex said with the kind of goofy smile Julie was sure she had whenever she thought of Luke.

Luke mouthed, "Ghost friend" and added air quotes.

"Your friend's name is Willie?" Julie asked. That name was familiar, but she had no idea why. Maybe just because it was short for "William".

"Yeah." Alex looked like "Willie" was the best name ever. "He knows so much stuff, too! Like, he thinks Julie was able to see us right away because she's connected to our unfinished business. That's the stuff we still needed to accomplish before we died. So we became ghosts instead of moving on."

"Whoa," Reggie said. "What do you think ours is?" He laughed. "It obviously not meeting our soulmates."

"Who cares?" Luke said, voice suddenly so hostile that everyone turned to stare at him. "You guys really want to move on already? Right now? We just met our soulmates! And we're gonna have a world-famous music career! With Julie! You really want to give that up?"

"Nobody said anything about moving on now," Reggie said. He backed up a step, looking worried. "I just asked. Aren't you even curious?"

"No," Luke said a lot more calmly. His gaze flicked guiltily to Reggie and away. "Sorry, bro. It's just, we just got here. We have our whole lives to figure out what our unfinished business is." He looked at Julie. "I don't want to leave."

"We don't have lives, though," Alex said. All his enthusiasm was gone. "We're dead. And I…." He bit his lip. "Willie's been a ghost for 34 years. I don't…I don't know if I can do that."

"Do what?" Luke demanded, anger creeping back. "Stay here with your friends in an awesome band? Be with your soulmate? You can't do that?"

"No! No, I don't mean that!" Alex burst out. "I don't mean that," he repeated. "I love you guys. I never want to leave you." He turned to Julie. "Or you, Julie." He returned the tiny smile she gave him. "Or my soulmate. I don't want to leave any of you. It's just…I don't know. It's so…. We're going to be 17 forever! Doesn't that bother you?"

Luke blinked, like he hadn't really considered that. Then his gaze immediately went to Julie, and what he was thinking was painfully clear.

"You'll still be my soulmate, Luke," she said.

"Yeah," he said, nodding. But he didn't smile. Because they'd both realized she was going to get older, and he wouldn't.

"Ray's going to die a long time before I do, won't he?" Reggie said. He rubbed his left arm, looking devastated. Then he gasped, and if anything he looked worse. "And when he dies, what if he goes to heaven, and I'm still here? I'll never see him again!"

"Hey. Hey, it's okay. It's okay, Reggie." Alex went to him and pulled him into a side hug. "Ray's not going to die for a long time. Like, a _long_ time. At least 40 years. Maybe 50!" He glanced at Julie, eyes widening in an unspoken plea for help.

"Right! Yes. Absolutely." She nodded vehemently. "Fifty years for sure! His whole family is extremely long-lived." If she considered mid-70s "long", which right now she totally did. Her dad took much better care of himself than most of his family did, anyway. She went to Reggie and tried to put her hand on his shoulder, then winced when her hand slid inside him instead. "And I'll still be here, when…when that happens. So will Luke and Alex. We'll all help you move on, so you can be with him."

Reggie looked at her pleadingly, tears in his eyes. "Promise?"

"Of course." Julie nodded. She smiled, though now she was feeling teary herself. "Nobody's leaving anyone."

Luke put his hand on the back of Reggie's neck. "The band's staying together. Julie included." It sounded like a vow.

"Okay." Reggie sniffed and wiped his eyes with the heel of his hand. "Oh, yeah." He sniffed again, then pulled up something like one of his usual bright smiles. "Alex is back! Does that mean we can ask her now?"

"Ask me what?" Julie said.

* * *

Julie walked out of the studio, heading back towards the house. It was nearly eight p.m. and she had actual homework to do, all of which was in her schoolbag. And the boys were incredibly distracting.

She also needed to decide if she actually wanted to be the new lead (co-lead? That wasn't entirely clear) singer of Sunset Curve. And she definitely couldn't do that with all of them making puppy-eyes at her. Luke's puppy eyes were worse than real puppies.

It wasn't like she didn't want to be in a band with them. She'd loved singing with them after the pep rally, even if that hadn't been planned. It was just, Sunset Curve was meant to be the boys' career. Their life, when they'd still been alive. And she was a sophomore in high school. Luke was talking like the band was going on a world tour next week. Julie definitely wasn't ready to do that.

She wasn't entirely sure what her plans were, anymore. She'd been thinking about going to university for music the way her mother had, but she didn't have any real ideas beyond that. And then her mother's death had derailed everything. Julie hadn't been able to even listen to music for an entire year, let alone play or sing. She was lucky her voice was still good.

Alex, Luke and Reggie were only 17, but they'd all been on their own for months before they'd died. They might be adorable dorks, but it also felt like they were way older than Julie was, in a lot of ways. They were so ready to be adults, and Julie…wasn't. Not yet.

But they would never be adults. And that was another thing. They were so sure passing themselves off as holograms would work. And maybe it would, but that didn't change the terrible truth: they were the dead in a world that only understood the living.

So, lots of stuff to think about. And she couldn't do it with the boys around.

It was already dark, but there was plenty of light from the house and the studio. So it was very easy to see Flynn creeping towards Julie's window.

"Flynn!" Julie rushed to her, arms flung open for a hug, then stopped, dismayed, when Flynn stepped back.

"Hi, traitor." Flynn crossed her arms, staring coolly.

That stung, but Julie ignored it. "I'm so glad you're here! I've been trying to get ahold of you all afternoon."

"I'm aware," Flynn said. "I came to give you the Double Trouble T-shirt I made, since we're obviously not going to perform together anymore. Since you got a new band. Without telling me." She slid her backpack off her shoulders, keeping her narrowed eyes on Julie. She zipped it open and rummaged it in without looking away, then slapped a bundled shirt against Julie's chest. "Here. Maybe one of your new band members can use it to polish his guitar. He can rip it to shreds, like you did my heart!"

Julie winced. It was Flynn's typical dramatics, but they came from a place of real hurt. "I'm not taking that."

"Fine. I'll let my dad wash his car with it. Hopefully the betrayal all over it won't scratch the paint." She shoved it back in her bag, next to a carton of eggs.

That was strange. "Why did you bring eggs?"

"No reason," Flynn said quickly. "Don't change the subject! You broke my heart, Julie! I thought we were friends, but it's three strangers who got you back into music? And you didn't even tell me? How could you do that?"

"I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry. I never meant to hurt you." Julie tried to inject her words with all the sincerity she felt. She took Flynn's hand, grateful when Flynn let her after only twisting her hand away once. "You're my best friend, Flynn. I really want to show you how important you are to me, and explain everything. I just need half an hour, okay? Just half an hour. Can you wait in the house?"

Flynn looked at her suspiciously. "What do you need half an hour for? To work on your story?"

That stung too, but Julie knew she deserved it. "You're right. I lied to you before, about the band. And I'm so sorry. I promise I will never lie to you about anything, ever again. I was just scared."

Flynn frowned, but at least it was out of confusion, not anger. "Scared of what? What I'd think when you band-cheated on me?"

"No," Julie said, then hesitated. "Yes. But, that wasn't the main reason." She squeezed Flynn's hand gently. "Will you give me half an hour, please? I'm not making up a story, I promise. But it'll let me explain everything. And, I want to make this perfect for you."

"Make what perfect?"

"I'll show you. In half an hour." Julie smiled hopefully. "Please, Flynn? Will you let me make it up to you?"

Flynn looked at her for a long moment, eyes narrowed, then finally gave a reluctant nod. "Fine. Half an hour. And I'm going to be in your room trying on your clothes."

"That's great!" Julie threw her arms around her, then hugged her tighter when Flynn reluctantly patted her back. "See you in half an hour," Julie said, then ran back to the studio.

All three boys perked up eagerly when she barreled inside.

Luke practically vaulted off the couch. "Did you decide? Are you joining the band?"

"No decision," Julie said quickly. "But, I want to play the song for Flynn!" she added immediately, only partially because Luke looked crushed and she couldn't stand it.

"Great!" Reggie teleported over to her. "Like, now?"

"We haven't practiced," Alex said, eyes wide with alarm. "Can we at least practice first?"

"Yes. Yes, we need to practice first." Julie nodded quickly. Alex smiled in relief. "I told Flynn I'd get her in half an hour." She clapped her hands. "Come on, boys, let's do this!"

"So bossy," Luke said, but he winked as he sauntered by her to get his guitar.

"You love it," Alex said so him.

"He really does," Reggie said in a whisper that somehow carried across the entire room.

"TMI!" Luke said loudly, then fumbled his guitar off the stand.

"Great. That's uh, fantastic. Good to know." Her face was on fire. Julie was going to burst into flames. 

She didn't collide with her keyboard when she tried to walk around it, but it was a near thing.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Reggie walked through the back door of the house, then looked around the living room, wringing his hands._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many, many thanks to my Alpha-of-Amazing Squeaky, for her brilliant suggestions and encouragement.
> 
>  **PLEASE NOTE:** There are trigger warnings in this chapter for discussion of past child abuse.

So. Julie's band weren't holograms. They were ghosts. Julie had a ghost band now. Ghosts were a thing.

It was going to take a second to wrap her head around.

It was a really good song. Flynn loved it. She was really flattered Julie had written it for her. But it was a little hard to concentrate on the words when she was watching the ghosts. 

They were really cute ghosts, too, though she liked the one in the red and black checkered jacket the best. First of all, he had way better fashion sense than Blondie and Orange Beanie With No Sleeves. Sure, Sleeveless had nice arms, but Flynn really didn't want a guided tour of his armpits, thanks. 

Checked also had really nice green eyes, and a great smile. And he smiled a her a lot. Flynn couldn't help smiling back every time.

Julie stopped singing, but the band kept playing. That was great, cause it let Julie lead Flynn around and introduce everyone. Blondie was actually called Alex. She liked his gold necklace and his sweet, shy little smile. Luke was the sleeve-impaired dude, and he was so obviously and deeply into Julie it was kind of hilarious. And the one with the great eyes and cool jacket was Reggie.

Not Flynn's first choice of a name, but she could get behind it.

She poked Reggie in the chest, and wow, that was weird: how his body just sort of shimmered and her hand went right into him. "Weird, huh?" he asked, like he could read her mind. She hoped he couldn't read her mind. She was not here for mind reading being another ghost thing. Then he smiled like it actually wasn't weird at all, but awesome.

"So, does this mean you're joining the band now?" Luke asked Julie.

"Don't you mean you're joining her band?" Flynn asked him. It still hurt. Julie had never really taken the idea of Double Trouble seriously, and here she was talking about making a new band with three white boys just days after meeting them. But Flynn could also admit to herself, Julie had never been into rap the way she was. These boys' music was a better fit. Even if they were ghosts.

Julie leaned on Flynn's shoulder, smiling challengingly at Luke. "What she said."

Luke just laughed, like giving up his band was perfectly fine. That dude was so gone on Julie it was ridiculous. 

Then again, the other two seemed fine with it as well. Of course, they'd heard Julie's singing voice already. Who could say 'no' to that?

Julie started singing again and Flynn grooved to it, dancing with her friend and watching Reggie. She and Julie shared a hug as the song ended, which the boys seemed to be really happy about.

And then, just like after the pep rally, they disappeared.

"Whoa!" Flynn had expected it, but it was somehow almost as startling as when they'd appeared in the first place. She looked around, as if the band was just hiding and she'd spot them if she tried hard enough. "Where'd they go?"

"They're still here," Julie said. "Reggie's waving to you. He really likes your necklace."

"Oh, this old thing?" Flynn gripped the lock she'd made into a pendant with her fingers, hoping her smile came off as cool and aloof instead of dopey. She looked in the direction he'd been in. "Thanks. I like yours too."

Hers would look nice around Reggie's neck, she thought, then cleared her throat. "So! Ghost band! I mean, musician-spirits band!" She pointed at the drums and nodded, then turned to Julie. "I guess I get it, why you didn't want to tell me before."

"I did want to tell you," Julie said. "I just didn't know how. I was sure you'd think I was crazy."

"Well, I did, at first. Before the song started," Flynn said apologetically. She looked around again. It was so weird, knowing there were other people in the room when she couldn't see or hear them. "They are still here, right?"

Julie smirked. "Yes, they're still here." Her smile dimmed. "I wish you could interact with them the way I can."

"Me too." Flynn would have definitely liked to interact with Reggie. Which was something she was very glad she hadn't said out loud. But he was really cute, and she liked his exuberance. "Actually, I don't get that. Why can you see and hear them, and I can't?"

"We don't really know," Julie said unhappily. "Alex has a…ghost friend who thinks it's maybe because I'm supposed to help them cross over. But, it might be because Luke's my soulmate." She turned and smiled warmly at nothing, which meant Luke had to be there.

Flynn's eyes widened. "No way! Sleeveless is the dead guy? The 'We're all crazy' guy?"

Julie giggled, then covered her mouth like she was being rude. "His name is Luke. And he just said he hates the way cloth feels on his arms. But, yes. That's him. I was born with greyed-out soulmarks because he died in 1995. They all did."

"Oh. Wow." Flynn blinked. That explained Mr. Sleeveless' doe-eyes for sure, but not much else. "They've been ghosts this whole time?"

"Not exactly?" Julie made a face. "It's a little complicated. I promise I'll tell you everything about it another time. But it's really late, and if my dad finds out I've been hanging with you and the boys instead of doing my homework, he'll kill me."

"Wait." Flynn stared at her. "Your dad knows about the ghosts?"

"Yeah." Julie nodded. "Actually, Reggie's his soulmate."

" _What?_ "

"Platonic," Julie added quickly. Which was great, because Ray was nearly 30 years older than Reggie. Which, ew. Julie looked to the side, then smiled like she'd heard something funny. "And Reggie wants you to know he likes girls."

That was good to know. For purely informational reasons. It was interesting. "Well, you can tell him I like both," Flynn said, just to be fair. Fair information exchange.

"He heard you," Julie said. She smiled like Flynn had said something funny, but missed Flynn giving her the hairy eyeball about it because she was checking her phone. "Oh, God. It _is_ really late! I'm sorry, guys—I have to do homework or my dad really will kill me. Can you stay?" she asked Flynn. "We can study together and you can sleep over if you want?"

"That'd be great." Flynn beamed at her. "And I know exactly which outfit of yours I want to wear tomorrow."

Julie laughed. "Take whichever one you want."

* * *

Reggie walked through the back door of the house, then looked around the living room, wringing his hands. He was pretty sure he'd seen Ray through the window, but he didn't want to bother him.

The living room was dark, though there was light coming from the kitchen, so it was easy to see Ray on the couch. He was watching the late news on the television, though the sound was really low. There was a bottle of beer on the coffee table, and Reggie froze for a second. Then he reminded himself that Ray wasn't like his father.

And even if Reggie was wrong about that—which he was pretty sure he wasn't—Ray couldn't touch him anyway. Nobody could hurt him anymore.

And Reggie trusted Ray. That was why he was here, by himself, late at night.

"Um. Mr….Mr. Molina?

Ray startled and Reggie winced.

"Reggie!" Ray said, keeping his voice hushed. He turned off the television, then glanced at the digital clock on his cable box. It was still weird to see how small it was, and that the readout was green instead of red. "It's past 10. Shouldn't you—" Ray sighed, then smiled, though even in the low light Reggie could see something sad in it, especially around his eyes. "I guess ghosts don't need to sleep."

"Not really." Reggie tried to smile, though he was too nervous for it. And sad too. 

It'd been great, finally getting to meet Flynn for real. She was so much fun and really pretty. But, as soon as she'd left with Julie, Reggie couldn't stop thinking about what Alex had told them, about how they were ghosts because they had unfinished business. And then Reggie couldn't stop thinking about how Ray would get older and die one day, and Reggie wouldn't.

His soulmate seemed really nice, but Reggie didn't know him very well. And who knew how long he had before Ray died and moved on without him?

Ray shifted on the couch so his body was more angled towards Reggie. "Are you all right? Is there something you wanted to talk about?"

Reggie nodded. He swallowed. "Could I walk through you?"

Ray blinked, then he looked confused. But he stood up. "Okay," he said, though he sounded uneasy about it. He took a step closer, then hesitated. "Reggie. You know I don't…" He took a breath. "I'm not expecting anything from you at all. Even if we're soulmates. I'm not going to hurt you, or do anything you wouldn't be comfortable with. Even if I could touch you. You're completely safe here. Do you understand?"

"Yes?" Reggie said uncertainly, because he didn't really understand what the problem was. But Ray was being so serious he was sure it was very important. "I know you won't hurt me. Wouldn't, I mean." He was mostly sure, anyway. That was why he was here.

"That's good," Ray said. He was still being really serious. "But I'm not just talking about…" He grimaced a little, like he didn't like the words he was going to say. "About hitting you. I mean, just because we're soulmates, doesn't mean I'm expecting anything other than friendship. I know a lot of the time, people who are soulmates aren't just platonic, but—"

"Oh!" Reggie said happily, getting it. "Oh, yeah. No. That's fine. You're like, 40 years older than I am. And, you know, I'm not gay. So." He shrugged. "Alex is," he pointed out, in case Ray wanted to know that. "And Luke just kind of likes everyone? But I just like girls. So, you don't have to worry about that."

"That's good to know." Ray didn't look any less serious, though. In fact he reminded Reggie of how intense he was when they met. "But, we are platonic soulmates, Reggie. You know that, right? Even if you were my age." The intensity softened a little bit when he smiled, but it was still so sad. "I'm happy to have you as my friend. But, I'm straight too. And I really miss my wife."

"Okay," Reggie said, a little confused again. "I'm really sorry about your loss. But, um, I'm good with being platonic? I wasn't actually thinking anything else?"

"All right. I'm glad that's clear. Thank you, Reggie." Ray relaxed, and his smile got bigger, though so did the sadness in it. "But I was only three years older than you when you died, though it's been a while since then."

"You were 20?" Reggie stared at him. "Wow. I didn't…I never thought about that. Like, you still being there when I wasn't."

"I was," Ray said simply. For a second his smile looked way more like a wince. "In fact, I was actually in line at the Orpheum when it happened."

"No way!" Reggie exclaimed, delighted. "You were? You were going to see us?"

"Shh." Ray put his finger to his lips, but then he chuckled. Quietly. "Yes. Rose was working there that night, and I was going to see her. But I was looking forward to the concert too. Your band sounded interesting, and you had a lot of fans already. I actually saw—" He stopped talking, then gave his head a quick shake, like he was throwing away a thought. "You said you wanted to…walk through me?"

"Oh, yeah. Right." Reggie nodded. "If that's still okay?"

"Sure." Ray didn't sound like he was sure, but he came closer anyway and held out his arms like he was trying to make it easier. So it probably was okay. "May I ask why?"

"In a minute, okay? Great! Thanks," Reggie said before Ray could actually answer. He took a quick breath and walked through him.

He'd been thinking about it after Flynn stuck her hand in his chest, cause he'd remembered when Julie walked through him the night they all met, and how he'd felt what she was feeling in that moment. He'd felt it from Flynn, too, though not as much, which he figured was cause it'd just been her hand. But he knew Flynn thought he was cute, which was awesome.

But he'd realized: if he could know what people were feeling, even just for a second, maybe he'd at least know if Ray was mad at him? Or didn't like him? Or thought he was annoying the way most people did?

He was thinking about all that stuff again now, so he almost missed what Ray was actually feeling when Reggie went through his body. Part of it—a big part—was confusion, which made sense. And Ray was also sad. Like, really sad. He'd been sad for a long time.

But he wasn't angry at Reggie, and he wasn't annoyed. He was…protective, maybe? Of Reggie? That was weird. Nice, but weird. And, there was warmth too, under all that. Like how you felt about your friends.

Reggie wasn't totally sure, and he wasn't about to walk through his dad, like, ever, to find out. But he was pretty sure Reginald Peters Sr. had never felt warmth about his kid. At least not since Reggie was a baby.

"Reggie? Are you all right?"

"Huh?" Reggie realized he was standing in the middle of the coffee table. "Oops." He laughed self-consciously, then sat down on the couch. "You have a good heart," he said.

"Thank you." Ray looked a little surprised, but he smiled anyway and sat down, giving Reggie plenty of space. He did that thing where he angled his body so they were practically facing each other. It was nice. Reggie's parents had never done that. "Was that why you walked through me?"

"Yeah." Reggie nodded, cause it was okay to tell him now that he'd done it. "I can feel what Lifers are feeling when I do that? Kinda?" He shrugged. "It helped."

"I'm glad it helped, Reggie. Anytime you need to do that, you just ask, okay? I want you to know you're safe."

"Thanks," Reggie said quietly. That was really nice of him too. "My, uh, my dad wasn't…" He started wringing his hands again. "He hit me. Sometimes." It was easier to say this looking at the readout on the cable box. "We had one of those." He nodded at it. "Only it was a lot bigger, and had a sticker on it that was supposed to be like wood. Oh, and the numbers were red."

"I was wondering if one of your parents hurt you," Ray said quietly. "I'm so sorry, Reggie. Your father had no right to do that. That's no way to treat a child."

Reggie shrugged. "It wasn't that much. Just when I bugged him a lot or whatever. Or if I was too loud. My mom always hugged me after, though. I liked that part."

"She wasn't able to protect you?"

"Not really." Reggie shook his head. "I mean, he hit her too, so…. My dad hit her in the face once, and she fell and he had to take her to the hospital."

"Madre de dios," Ray breathed. "Was she all right?"

"Yeah. She came home in the morning. She had a headache for a few days, though."

"What did she tell the hospital? Was your father arrested?"

Reggie shook his head again. He remembered how much he'd hoped the cops would take his dad away, and how terrified he was they would at the same time. "She said our dog pulled her over when she was walking her. That'd actually happened before, so I guess the hospital believed it."

"I'm sorry," Ray said. "I can't imagine living with that kind of fear and uncertainty."

"I hated it," Reggie said softly. He sniffed, then rubbed his nose. "I hated him. And, and I hated how my mom never really did anything. But I miss them both too." He looked at Ray. "Is that crazy? Alex and Luke said it's not, but…."

"It's not," Ray said immediately. "It's not crazy. They're your parents. It's only natural you love them, no matter how badly they treated you. But, Reggie. You have to understand, Mijo, you didn't deserve that. Not any of it. A parent shouldn't hit their child, ever. That was abuse. Your father abused you, and you never deserved it."

Reggie swallowed, wiping his eyes. "He told me I did."

"He lied." Ray said it with such swift certainty that Reggie blinked. "If he told you that you deserved to be hit, for anything, then he lied. Because you didn't. It was wrong. That's why people get put in prison for child abuse. Because it's _wrong._ "

"Yeah," Reggie said. He looked back at the cable box. His friends had told him that too. Even Bobby. They'd all told him his dad sucked, and his mom sucked for not getting him away from his dad. "I am annoying, though. Sometimes. And I'm too loud a lot."

"I think everyone can be annoying or too loud sometimes," Ray said. "There are plenty of ways to get someone to change what they're doing without hurting them. And for what it's worth, I don't think you're annoying or too loud."

Reggie smirked. "You don't know me very well."

"That's true." Ray smiled at him; Reggie could hear it in his voice even though he wasn't looking. "I don't think my assessment of you will change, though. But I was hoping to get to know you better. You and your bandmates, actually. So I'm glad you decided to come talk to me." Ray glanced at the time readout. "Since you don't need sleep, would you like to watch a movie?"

"Could we?" Reggie asked excitedly. "Flynn said there are prequels and sequels to _Star Wars_ now! Could we watch them?"

"You were talking to Flynn?" Ray leaned towards him eagerly. "That's great! Did she and Julie make up? Did you guys play her a song?"

"Yeah." Reggie nodded, reminding himself fiercely not to talk about how Flynn could see them during the song, because they'd all catch hell if he did. "She was blown away when she realized it wasn't a CD. And…and she's really nice." And pretty. And just awesome.

"Flynn is a good kid. I'm glad she knows about you now." Ray grinned. "So, sequels or prequels?"

"Prequel," Ray said decisively. "You have to start at the beginning."

Ray laughed, nodding. "I like the way you think, Mijo. _The Phantom Menace_ it is. Hang on while I set it up."

Reggie watched Ray as he found the DVD of the film and put it into the player. He still couldn't get over how tiny they were. He remembered the giant LaserDisc machine that was such a big deal when his school got one. When Ray sat back down, he was closer to Reggie on the couch, though there was still plenty of space between them.

Ray picked up the remote from the coffee table and turned the television back on, and then the DVD player. He still hadn't touched his beer, Reggie realized. And then it hit him that Ray had turned the TV off when he'd noticed Reggie. Like talking to a ghost was more important.

That was weird. _Good_ weird, but. Weird. Reggie knew he was pretty important to his friends, and not just because he was a rocking bass player. But he wasn't used to being important to anyone else.

He liked that, feeling more important than the television.

"Are you going to heaven when you die?" he asked before he thought about it. He hated how much he did that. He winced. "Sorry. That was dumb."

Ray looked a little puzzled, but not like he was upset or anything. He muted the music playing over the DVD menu and turned towards Reggie. "I hope I will, yes. Why are you asking, Mijo?"

It was weird to be called "Mijo", too. As if Reggie was Ray's kid. But he didn't mind it. "Um. No reason? It's just…" He shrugged. "You're a lot older than me. And, I dunno. Alex was talking about how we're ghosts because we have unfinished business which we should've done before we died. But we didn't. So we can't go to heaven. But, you're probably going to heaven. So…." He shrugged again. "Yeah."

"Hopefully that won't be for a long time," Ray said. "And, when you're ready…" He swallowed. "Maybe we can figure out what all of your unfinished business is. So you and your friends can go to heaven, too."

Reggie nodded. His friends had said pretty much the same thing. It was a nice idea, anyway. "Alex got really scared today. Because there's all this weird stuff about being dead."

"I can imagine how frightening all this would be," Ray said gently. "It's frightening for me, how little of this I understand. And I'm not experiencing it the way you three are. But you're not alone anymore. You have me, and Julie, and Flynn now too. We'll help you figure it out."

"Thanks." Reggie smiled at him, then settled back against the couch. He sighed. It was too much to worry about right now, and he wanted to watch _Star Wars._ "Can you please start the movie?"

"Of course, Mijo." Ray clicked the remote, and that fantastic theme music started playing.

* * *

Tony Stark picked up on the third ring. "Raymundo! Amigo mio! What's up?"

Ray blinked, then checked the clock display on the cable box. No, it would definitely be after three a.m. in New York. "Hi. I didn't wake you up, did I? I was expecting to leave a voicemail."

"It's fine. I wasn't sleeping. Besides, I'd never miss a call from my favorite photographer." The phone had to be on speaker, since there was the distinct sound of a coffeemaker burbling to life in the background. "You're up kind of late, though. Isn't tonight a school night?"

"I was watching _The Phantom Menace_ with a house guest," Ray said. He hesitated a moment, then reminded himself he was talking to an Avenger and decided to just go through with it. "Actually, that's why I'm calling."

"About _The Phantom Menace_?"

Ray smirked at the teasing in Tony's voice. "No. The house guest." He took a breath. "This is going to be weird."

"Cool." Ray could practically hear Tony leaning towards his phone. "Hit me."

"What would you say if I told you I had the ghosts of three teenage boys haunting my wife's music studio?"

There was a pause. "I'd say that was definitely the third weirdest thing I'd heard this week. How did you get ghosts in your studio? I mean, I've slept there. I'm sure I would've noticed if you'd had any."

"Honestly? I don't really know." Ray licked his lips, trying to find the easiest way to explain. "I mean, I know what happened: my daughter played Sunset Curve's demo CD and apparently pulled the boys' ghosts out of limbo. I'm still confused about how. Or why."

"Wait." Ray heard the scrape as Tony snatched up the phone. "Did you just say 'Sunset Curve'? You have the ghosts of Sunset Curve in your studio? Like, your soulmate, Sunset Curve? The kids who ate my poisoned hotdogs?"

Ray winced. "The poison was meant for you. It wasn't your fault they got it, Tony. You didn't feed it to them." 

"Yeah, well, to-may-to, to-mah-to. Try telling your ghost band it wasn't my fault."

"Tony—"

"Never mind. It's fine. We're all fine. Moving on." There was a soft rasping sound Ray guessed was Tony carding his fingers through his hair. "You're seriously telling me you have Sunset Curve doing a postmortem comeback tour behind your house."

"They're just kids, Tony," Ray said, concerned about the sudden tightness in Tony's voice. "I mean, that's probably the weirdest thing about this, honestly. They're just kids. Teen boys who like music. I just finished watching a _Star Wars_ flick with one of them. If they weren't intangible, I wouldn't even know they were dead."

"Gotta say that's a sentence I never thought anyone would say ever," Tony said distantly. He swallowed. "Are you okay?"

That was not the question Ray expected to hear. He was about to say, "I'm fine", even started shaping the words, but he stopped. "I don't know," he said instead. "It's been…it's been strange. I mean, my soulmate is still 17. And, he's dead. But I keep forgetting. I keep forgetting all three of them are dead." He laughed, but he really didn't like how it sounded. "I was going to make them sandwiches the other day. Because, they're _kids_. They're good kids who just need a place to stay and an adult to give a damn about them. And not…." He didn't say _and not hurt them,_ because while it was true, Tony didn't need to know about it. "Except I can't help them, because they're dead. And I have absolutely no clue what to do about it."

There was silence on the other end of the line while Tony breathed. "It sounds like you are helping them, though. I mean, you give a damn about them and they have a place to stay, right? Isn't that what you just said you wanted to do?"

"It's not enough!" Ray snapped, then grimaced. "Sorry. But, it isn't. I can't even touch them. I can't touch my soulmate. I can't feed them, I can't get them new clothes, I can't…." He sighed. "I thought maybe you could help." He managed a smirk that actually sounded like one. "Because it's only the third weirdest thing you've heard recently."

Tony licked his lips. "Help, how, exactly? I'm not trying to be an ass," he amended quickly. "I'm just trying to figure it out. I mean, are you thinking new bodies? Or…"

"Wait. New bodies? You can do that?"

"Yeaaah?" Tony drawled it like a long question. "Maybe? I have a colleague who's doing some bleeding edge cell regeneration research. She's regrown body parts, but not the whole thing with organs and everything yet. But, theoretically? Sure. It might take a couple years, but, yeah. Maybe."

"Wow," Ray said, stunned. "I didn't even know that was possible. But…I don't know. I don't know if that's something we should do." He was sure Rose would be horrified at the idea, and he couldn't say he wasn't, though the thought of it was also compelling. "But, I was thinking…they should be in heaven. I don't know what's trapped them here, but it's not right. They're just kids. They should be in heaven."

"I can't really speak to that," Tony said seriously. "As far as I'm concerned, when you die, that's it. Game over, fade to black, yadda. I mean, new bodies, I could maybe do. Give or take a few years and depending if the scientist I'm thinking of would be willing to help me. Getting the ghosts into new bodies…that's a whole other kettle of spectral fish. If you were talking, say, a hard drive with a couple hundred terabytes of someone's consciousness in need of a new meatsuit, I'm your huckleberry. But if you're talking about moving _souls_ around… I got nothing. I'm sorry. I got nothing." Tony sounded like he felt terrible about it. "I don't think I can help you with this. Metaphysics isn't my area. I mean, it's _really_ not my area."

"Oh," Ray said. He really hadn't expected much, but he couldn't help the awful disappointment. "Well, yeah. That makes sense. I'm sorry, I should've—"

"I said it's not _my_ area," Tony cut in. "But, that doesn't mean it's nobody's area. I may not be able to help you, but I actually think I know a guy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so happy I finally got some Fleggie in this. Fledgling Fleggie. :D


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _He hadn't remembered dying, but his body did. And now Caleb could make sure Willie never, ever forgot it again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can't add a chapter without thanking [Squeaky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squeaky/works), who helped me pick the chapter summary, as well as giving her endless encouragement. If you somehow still haven't read her fic, check it out. It's great. :D

It was about a 30 minute drive from the Calvary Cemetery to Hollywood Boulevard.

There was no reason for Ray to be there. It was only vaguely in the same direction as his home, if he was being generous, it was crowded, and the parking was expensive. It was just that, he'd finished an outdoor photoshoot early, so he'd decided to visit Rose. He'd told her about the boys, of course, though maybe she already knew. But on the way home he kept thinking about Alex, walking along Hollywood Boulevard to calm himself down. And Ray realized he hadn't gone anywhere to just walk around in a long time.

In retrospect, Hollywood Boulevard might not have been the best choice. Still, it was a nice day, and everyone around him was excited and happy to be there. And it was fascinating to watch the locals in their vibrant costumes interacting with the tourists. He gave a few of the characters tips so he could take their photographs, planning on adding them to his online portfolio.

It was a pleasant change, taking pictures just for the sake of it. Ray realized he hadn't done that since before Rose died. He had hundreds of pictures of her from her last months, but after a certain point she'd been so sick, so unlike herself, he couldn't bear to remember her like that. The images in his mind were indelible enough.

He resolved to take more pictures of Julie and Carlos, because he used to enjoy it so much. He wondered if he'd be able to take pictures of Reggie, Luke and Alex as well, or if ghosts could be photographed at all.

The sun was setting as Ray started back to his car. He sent Julie a text, letting her know he was safe but would be home late, and to order whatever she and Carlos wanted for dinner. He also asked her to see if the boys could be photographed, because why not.

She sent him back a celebrating emoji in a party hat, a heart, and a thumbs up. Ray grinned as he responded with a thumbs up and a heart of his own, then put his phone back into his pocket. He was in a good mood. Walking around had been fun.

He was still smiling to himself when her heard the skateboard trucks, and automatically glanced in the direction of the sound to make sure no one would run into him. The skater was a young man in cutoff jean shorts and a purple Baja hoodie, whooping in joy as he flew along the pavement. His helmet was grey, and there was black lettering on his leg.

Ray knew what those words said.

"Willie," he breathed. For a moment he was too shocked to move, eyes fixed on his friend— _his dead friend_ —as Willie barreled down Hollywood Boulevard, exactly the way he'd done when he was alive. And then Ray realized Willie was going to pass right next to him, and he hollered, "Willie! _Willie!_ " not giving a damn how crazy he must look, yelling and waving his arms.

Willie visibly startled, so badly he nearly lost his balance and ended up swerving wildly. Right through Ray.

Ray gasped, whirled and saw Willie's back as he sped away. "Willie! Willie, no! Come back! It's me! It's Ray!"

Willie looked over his shoulder, and Ray had never forgotten Willie's face, but he'd never seen him afraid before. He was afraid now. And he just kept going.

Ray took off after him.

He knew he would never catch him. Willie was on a skateboard, and ghosts probably couldn't get tired. And Willie didn't have to dodge around anyone. Ray kept running anyway, and calling his name.

"Ray!"

Ray stopped so suddenly he nearly collided with a woman going the other way. Willie was waiting for him on the corner of Vine Street, shifting from foot to foot with his skateboard in his hand. As soon as Ray saw him, he dropped his board, hopped on it and kicked off, only this time he went slowly enough to let Ray follow him. 

Willie led him to a short alley behind a coffeeshop, then got off his board and stepped on the back so it flipped up into his hand. His grey helmet had a huge, deep crack in it, over his right temple. Ray hoped the blow that had made it had been quick.

Willie smiled, but the same fear Ray had seen on the boulevard was still clinging to his eyes. "Hi, Ray," he said.

"Willie. Dios mio, Willie!" Ray tried to embrace him, then managed to stop himself before he just went through his body. He started to cry, too overwhelmed to even name the reason. He put his hand over his mouth, staring at his friend in a bewilderment of happiness and grief as the air trembled in his lungs.

"Don't cry. Please don't cry, Ray," Willie said, stricken. "I'm sorry I ran away from you. I just…didn't expect to hear my name."

Ray shook his head mutely, still crying. "It's okay," he managed. "That's not why…." He squeezed his eyes shut, still wracked, then whipped them open again, terrified Willie would be gone.

He was still there, which was what finally helped Ray settle the turbulence inside him. He sniffed, then wiped his eyes. He didn't have any tissues, so he just wiped his nose on his sleeve like a kid. "I can see you," he said. "Why can I see you?"

"I don't know," Willie said. He glanced around, like he was nervous someone would overhear, though there wasn't anyone near them. He licked his lips. "It's not…that doesn't normally happen."

"Yeah." Ray swallowed. "Are you okay?"

Willie blinked, then smiled again. This time it was closer to what Ray remembered. "Yeah, I'm okay. I'm great." He waggled the board in his hand, drawing Ray's attention to it. "I can skate wherever I like, whenever I like…." He laughed. "Yesterday I screamed my head off in a museum. It was wild."

"That's good. I'm glad you're okay, Willie." Ray swallowed, then finally found a smile to give back to him. "You haven't been around a lot lately. I thought maybe you were in heaven."

Willie laughed, but now there was something bitter in it. "Naw, man. I don't think they'd want me." He sobered, looked around again. "I'm sorry I wasn't around as much as I used to be, when you were still a kid. I wanted to, but…."

"You were there when I needed you," Ray said, meaning it. "You saved my life. I don't think I ever thanked you for that."

"Well, I learned the hard way not to play in traffic, so I figured I'd pass it along, you know?" He smirked.

"I mean it, Willie. I would have died that night, if you hadn't turned the car." For a second Ray wondered if he would have become a ghost, then shoved the thought aside. "I have—had—an incredible wife, and I have two wonderful children, because of you. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Willie said seriously. "I'm really sorry about Rose."

"Thank you," Ray said.

Willie smiled again. Ray had never forgotten the way he smiled. "Julie and Carlos were a blast when they were little." He laughed. "Julie really liked sticking her hand in my head. Dunno why, but she'd crack up every time. It was awesome."

Ray chuckled, then had to swallow back more tears. "I remember how you made them laugh. I'm sorry they forgot you."

Willie shrugged. "It happens. Kids grow up. It is what it is." He grimaced and glanced around again, then took a breath. "Look. My boss doesn't like it when I hang around Lifers outside of the Club. That's where I work," he filled in before Ray asked. "He doesn't have any problem with kids, but, you know, Lifer kids actually grow up, so." He laughed like it was another joke, but he'd tucked his board under his right arm, then started rubbing his right wrist with his other hand, like it ached. "I don't want to hang around you guys too much, in case he finds out. He really…" He bit his lip. "I really don't want him knowing about you."

"What are you talking about?" Ray asked, concern drifting like flakes of ice up his spine. "Willie…this boss of yours. Is he dangerous? Could he hurt my kids?"

"No!" Willie looked horrified at the idea. He shook his head. "He'd never do anything like that. He'd never hurt Lifers." He chuckled uneasily. "He can't touch them."

'Lifers' obviously meant living people. Ray already knew ghosts couldn't touch the living. But they could touch other ghosts. "Willie," Ray asked, voice soft with horror. "Does he hurt you?"

Willie shrugged again, but he dropped his eyes. He seemed to realize he was rubbing his wrist and yanked his hand back. "Only if I deserve it."

Ray sucked in a breath. "Oh, no. Oh, no, Willie." He reached for him again, gritting his teeth in anguished frustration when his hand went through his shoulder. "Willie, you can't let him do that to you. You _don't_ deserve it. He has no right to hurt you." Dear God, didn't he just have this conversation with Reggie? What had happened to these kids? "You're his employee, not his slave! How can—"

He stopped, because he'd seen that minute flinch; the way Willie's eyes had flickered in alarm when Ray said the word 'slave'. "Willie," he said, willing his voice steady, "what did this person do to you?"

"You don't understand," Willie said, and now his eyes were wide and desperate. "You don't know what happens to us when we're alone too long. When no one remembers you, and everything's changed so much you can't find anything to…to hold on to, anymore. It-it's—" He looked to the end of the alley and his eyes widened. "Step back!"

It was an obvious order, so Ray did.

A young woman was walking towards them in the gathering dusk, head down and fur coat held tightly around her throat with her hand, as if she were cold. It took a moment for Ray to realize she was dressed for winter, not a typically mild California fall, and that her hair and clothing were decades out of date.

She didn't look at either of them, or make any kind of sound. No rustle of clothing, no tap of her high heeled boots on the pavement. She passed them like a silent film. 

Ray shivered with a sudden chill, then watched her reach the mouth of the alley and vanish.

He swallowed. Willie and the Sunset Curve boys had never, ever scared him. But the absolute wrongness of the silent woman was terrifying. He was still shivering. He wondered how cold it would have been if the woman had touched him. "What was that?"

"That's what happens to us," Willie said simply. "She comes through that alley every night. Most people can't see her, but they always feel cold." He pointed to the far end of the alley, where a building blocked a direct route to the next street. "Any ghost can go through a building. But she doesn't know it's there anymore. She's just like a VHS tape, looping the same footage over and over again." He smiled, but it looked ghastly. "If you follow her for a couple blocks, you'll see her get murdered."

"Jesus Christ," Ray murmured. "Is she…aware of it?" Was she doomed to die horribly over and over again?

Willie shrugged. "I don't know. She screams, but, I don't know if she knows what's happening. Or if it's just…playing on repeat."

"Like a VHS tape," Ray said.

"Yeah," Willie said. "I don't want that to happen to me, Ray. I don't want to be just a VHS tape of some fucking idiot getting turned into street pizza over and over again. And…and without the club…." He took a breath that shook. "My mom died three years ago, and my dad moved back to Korea. My little brother's older than you are, and his kids barely know anything about me. And you're getting older too, and your kids forgot me. And the city keeps changing and I don't, and…." There were tears in his eyes. He scrubbed them away with the heel of his hand. Ray wanted to hug him so badly he ached. "I'm really scared. I'm really scared I'm gonna end up like that, without the club. I want to be _here._ I want to stay _here._ "

Ray had never imagined his childhood friend, the young man he'd looked up to as a brother, who'd been legally an adult and had seemed so mature and terribly wise, could look so vulnerable or painfully young. Ray stepped closer, wishing more than anything he could touch him, offer some kind of comfort. But he couldn't.

"You are still here," Ray said, because he couldn't think of anything else. "You're the same as you always were. My best friend with the awesome laugh and enough patience to teach a hopelessly clumsy 11 year-old how to skateboard. You're not turning into a VHS tape. You're still Willie."

Willie nodded. He gave Ray a fleeting, brittle smile as he wiped his eyes again. "It's called The Hollywood Ghost Club. Where I work. It's great. I love it. And it's helping me keep being here. Caleb's helping me. But, he only likes me talking to Lifers in the club. So, I can't see you very much. I'm sorry."

"It's all right," Ray said immediately. "I understand. You need to protect yourself." 

"Yeah." Willie nodded. He swallowed. "Just, don't go there, okay? Sometimes I leave, like, pamphlets or stickers, things like that, around Los Angeles for Lifers to find. They're like tickets to get in. But if you find one, just throw it away, all right? Don't go there. I don't want Caleb to know about you or Julie or Carlos."

"I promise, if I find anything to do with the Hollywood Ghost Club, I'll throw it away," Ray said.

"Great. Thanks." Willie pulled up a smile that sat almost right on his face. "I need to go. But, it was great to see you, Ray."

"It was great to see you too, Willie." Ray's voice was rough. "Take care. I love you."

Willie blinked, then beamed. "Likewise, little bro."

He dropped his board, stepped on it, and kicked off.

Ray watched him until he was out of sight.

* * *

He pulled into his driveway, parked and turned off the engine. The sun had set while he was driving home, but the light from the house turned the darkness into nothing more than a soft haze at the edge of his vision. It looked safe and warm inside. He hoped Willie would be safe and warm tonight.

Ray unbuckled his seatbelt, but stayed where he was.

"Rose, help me, please," he prayed quietly in the silence of the car. "I saw Willie today. And, I'm worried about him. I'm really worried. I don't know what his situation is." He creaked out a horrified laugh. "I don't know anything about what's going on. He has a job, somehow. Somehow he works for another ghost, at a club. But, this other ghost is hurting him. And I can't help. I can't even touch him and I don't know what's going on. It's just like with the boys, only worse. Because at least they're safe, but he's not, and…."

He gritted his teeth, then hit the steering wheel with a short cry of rage. "Why is this happening? Why the hell is this happening? Why are these boys getting hurt when I can't _do_ anything about it?"

He hit the steering wheel again, hard enough to make pain radiate up his arm. "Damn it," he muttered, shaking out his hand. He took a deep breath. "I need you to help him, Rose. Because I can't. I don't even know if I'll be able to see him again." He barked another laugh: thin and strained and miserable. "I don't know why I can see him _now._ What's happening, Rose?" He grimaced, painfully aware he was near tears again. He didn't want to go into the house like this. "I wish you were here. I wish you were here so badly." He smirked, then wiped his eyes. "You always seemed to know what was going on, and you definitely understood teenagers better than I do."

He sighed. "Just, please, Rose. Please look after Willie for me. Thank you."

He blew a kiss to heaven, then pulled his keys out of the ignition and left the car. He wiped his eyes as he walked to the house, then shook out his hands and plastered on a smile he hoped didn't look fake. Bad enough he was home even later than he'd said; he didn't want Julie to worry about him.

But Julie and Flynn burst out of the house before he got to the front door.

"Dad! Dad!" Julie yelled, rushing over to him. It reminded him of the night she'd first seen the ghost boys, only now she looked less frightened but far more worried. "Where were you? We need your help!"

"I'm sorry, Mija. I ran into an old friend on the way back to my car," Ray said quickly. It wasn't a lie. "What happened?"

"Trevor Wilson stole Sunset Curve's songs!" Flynn exclaimed. "Luke wrote them, but Trevor said they were his! He got rich from Sunset Curve's music!"

"Wait, what?" Ray frowned, confused. "How did Trevor even get a hold of their songs?"

"His real name is Bobby," Julie said. "He used to be in the band."

"That's how come he knew your soulmate!" Flynn said. "They were in Sunset Curve together." Her eyes went huge. "Maybe they really were boyfriends."

"The boys were really mad," Julie said. "They poofed over to his house. I don't know what they're going to do."

"Wait," Ray said again, mind reeling. "They're there now?"

"Yes!" Flynn nodded vigorously. "They were talking about revenge. Like, they wanna go full _Hill House_ on his butt."

"I'm worried, Dad," Julie said. "What if they do something really bad by accident?"

"Dios mio." Ray took a moment to close his eyes and fill his lungs. He was a little surprised how angry he was on the boys' behalf. Then again, if one of his old friends had tried to pass off Ray's photos as his own, he would've gone ballistic. The fact Trevor—or Bobby, apparently—had stolen from the dead only made it worse.

Anger was one thing, though; the boys being out for revenge could only end badly. Ray mentally flipped through his options. "Okay," he said, looking at the girls. "Do you have any proof the songs are actually Luke's?" 

Julie nodded. "Yeah. Luke's notebook. All the songs Trevor stole are in it."

"Okay. Great. Flynn, bring me the notebook, please." She nodded and took off. "Carlos is still in the house, right?" Ray closed his eyes again, this time in self-directed frustration. "Did you even eat?"

"We had pizza. And Carlos said he was doing homework, but I think he's playing video games."

"Great." Nothing here was great, but at least he knew his kids were safe and fed. And he had something approaching a plan. He saw Flynn running back to the car, carrying a black notebook. "Here." She thrust it at him. "He showed us. Every single song on Trevor's first album is on it."

"Thanks." Ray opened the passenger side door and put the book down carefully on the seat. "Okay. You two stay here and look after Carlos. I'm—"

"Carlos is 12!" Julie protested. "He doesn't need a babysitter!"

"No he doesn't. But I need to know the three of you are safe," Ray said. "Since you remember how Trevor acted when he saw my soulmarks, I'm sure you also remember how volatile he was. I'm not sure how he'll respond when I show him this, and I don't want you to be there."

"What about you? What if he tries to attack you or something?" Julie demanded.

"If he does, I _really_ don't want you there," Ray said. "I'll be fine," he added immediately. "Trevor and I will talk about this like adults, and hopefully I can get the boys to leave before they do something stupid."

"Probably too late for that," Flynn said.

* * *

Caleb was on the stairs leading to his dressing room, wearing his silk robe and carrying his usual saucer and cup of tea. "William," he said silkily. "So good to see you. Ten minutes late."

Willie stopped his mad scramble to get to his own room before Caleb saw him. He knew there was still plenty of time before the first Lifers arrived for the evening, but Caleb considered being early very, very important. "I'm really sorry," he said. He realized he was still wearing his helmet, unbuckled it and tore it off his head in one frenzied motion. "I was visiting the Vine Street woman and I lost track of time."

Both of those statements were true. It was very, very important not to lie to Caleb.

"Hmm," Caleb grunted, his expression unreadable. "Well, I suppose that's generously sentimental of you. You realize she doesn't know you're there, right?"

"Yes, Sir." Willie nodded. "I just feel bad for her. Sometimes."

"I understand. It is tragic, isn't it?" Caleb gave a small sigh, expression, wistful. "I wish I'd know her. Perhaps I could have helped."

"Me too," Willie said. "I would've brought her here."

Caleb's smile was big and warm, making his eyes shine like diamonds. "Of course you would have, my beautiful, loyal boy. Where else would a ghost want to go?"

A momentary image of Ray's house flashed behind Willie's eyes; he ignored it. That couldn't be his anymore. "Nowhere," he confirmed, grinning.

Caleb smiled back, and then Willie was on the floor in too much pain to move, trying to breathe through the pieces of bone in his lungs. He could feel every shard of blasted vertebrae in his spine; every crushed and mangled inch of his limbs; every imploded organ and crack of the fissured dent in his skull.

It hurt so badly he couldn't even scream.

He hadn't remembered dying, but his body did. And now Caleb could make sure Willie never, ever forgot it again.

Caleb released him, and Willie gasped, filling his desperate lungs with air he couldn't use. He curled in on himself in an instinctive need for protection and comfort. Every phantom nerve in his ethereal body was still vibrating. 

"Since you like it here, don't insult me or your place of employment by arriving late," Caleb said mildly. "It's not a good look."

He turned and mounted the stairs, leaving Willie on the floor. "You're greeting the guests and helping them to their seats tonight, William. Make sure you're ready early." The door to Caleb's dressing room opened and shut.

Willie allowed himself to cry softly for a moment, then pushed himself upright. He sat on the floor, wiping his eyes. 

Ray would have told Willie he hadn't deserved that. But Willie knew how much Caleb liked punctuality, and he'd chosen to talk to Ray anyway. Caleb wouldn't have done anything if Willie had been on time.

He'd just have to make sure he wasn't late again.

Willie grabbed his skateboard and helmet and apported himself to his room. He hung up his stuff on the wall hangers he'd put in, nearly dropping them both because of how badly his hands were shaking. 

At least getting dressed in his work clothes was easier. He just apported his original outfit onto the floor and replaced it with the fancy white tuxedo Caleb liked the hosts to wear. He changed his messy hair into a nice, neat bun the same way, then checked his look in the mirror on his door.

He realized with a bolt of fear he'd almost forgotten to replace his sneakers with the fancy white shoes, then apported them onto the wrong feet in his panic. He ended up just toeing them off and putting them on again the Lifer way, just to make sure he did it right.

His hands were shaking again.

He should never have brought Alex here.

The thought was sudden and painful as a stab wound, especially because it was wrong. He'd _wanted_ to show Alex the club, and have him meet Zephrine and his other friends. Willie loved the Hollywood Ghost Club. He loved the glitz and glamor, the music and the food. He loved the awe on the Lifer's faces, and how proud he felt when Caleb got on stage and wowed everyone again and again and again.

The club kept him safe. Willie would never end up like the Vine Street woman, as long as he stayed with Caleb. The club wouldn't change, and meeting new people kept him connected to the world. He wanted Alex to be part of it. He wanted Alex to be safe, the way Willie was. The idea of that beautiful soul fading to an endless moment of tragedy was too awful for Willie to even think about.

Willie just had to be more careful, that was all. He couldn't see Ray anymore, or Julie or Carlos, no matter how much Willie missed them. And he had to be absolutely certain Alex never found out he knew them, or Ray found out Alex was Willie's soulmate.

He really wished he could tell Ray about Alex. Ray would be so happy for him.

Willie had no idea how any of this had happened, though: Willie and his soulmate somehow being connected to the same man, or Ray and Julie being able to see Alex and his friends, at least according to what Alex had said. And now Ray being able to see Willie, too.

Maybe it was just a coincidence; he didn't know, but ultimately he didn't think it mattered.

All that mattered was that Caleb never found out. Alex was a ghost, and as long as he didn't agree to work for Caleb, he'd be fine. And Alex didn't have to, since he had a place to belong.

Willie liked the idea of Alex being in Ray's house. It was cozy there, comfortable and warm. Almost safe enough, but not quite. Not when one day Ray would die just like Rose had, and his kids would leave for houses of their own. 

He hated the idea of Alex haunting a lonely house full of strangers, but Willie wouldn't worry about it until it actually happened. It wasn't like the Hollywood Ghost Club was going anywhere.

Willie took a few deep breaths and thought about Alex's smile until he wasn't shaky anymore. Next time they met up, he'd take him to the museum. He'd bet Alex would enjoy screaming his head off for a while, get rid of some of that tension. Maybe Alex would enjoy it if Willie kissed him, too. Willie hadn't wanted to push him, cause he knew how freaky it'd been when all the ghost stuff was so new. But, maybe.

He felt a lot better now, at least. Willie apported to the hotel lobby and put on a big, welcoming smile. He still had plenty of time before the guests arrived, but it was always better to be early.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Promise me," Ray said. "Say it. Promise me you won't go."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Trigger Warnings:** Discussion of past child emotional and physical abuse. Homophobia and internalized homophobia.

The drive to Trevor's house was long enough, Ray was both seething at Trevor and worried sick for him by the time he arrived. He really didn't think the boys would do anything truly malicious, no matter how angry they were, but he kept imagining Trevor tripping down his long, open staircase, or falling badly on his polished bathroom floor. Or having a heart attack.

He stabbed the gate buzzer hard enough with his thumb that it hurt.

"Who is this?"

"Carrie?" She sounded almost the same, other than the waspishness in her voice. "Hi. It's Ray Molina, Julie's dad—"

"I know who you are. What do you want?"

Ray blinked, taken aback at her tone. As far as he recalled, she was the one who'd cut Julie and Flynn dead, not the other way around. "Is your dad home? I need to speak to him. It's important."

"He's busy."

Ray took a breath, determined not to be rude to a child. "Please tell him it's about Sunset Curve."

There was a pause, like she was debating whether she'd do it. "Fine," she said at last. The intercom clicked off.

Ray waited, tapping the steering wheel. He eyed the barbed wire fence through the car windshield, then decided it wasn't worth risking his hands. He'd figured using Trevor's—Bobby's—former band name would either get him let in or ignored entirely. He was counting on the former; he couldn't imagine Trevor just letting that go.

The light on the gate clicked from red to green a moment later, and it swung open. Looked like he'd been right.

It was late enough now that Ray could understand some of Carrie's hostility, but there were too many lights on in the house for anyone to be trying to sleep.

He couldn't see any ghosts.

Carrie opened the front door, gave him a surly onceover, then simply walked away. "He's upstairs." She didn't even bother turning her head to say it, before climbing back onto the couch and picking up her phone.

"Thank you," Ray said. He made sure the notebook was tucked securely under his arm, and climbed the stairs.

* * *

He found Luke first. He was in Trevor's upstairs office, knocking books off the shelf one by one, like a cat. He saw Ray and his eyes went comically huge; caught.

Ray made a cutting gesture across his throat. Luke crossed his arms and glared, but at least he stopped.

Ray narrowed his eyes at him and lifted his index finger, telling him to wait. Luke's jaw set, but he sat on the couch. All the throw pillows were on the floor.

The other two boys were in the bathroom. Reggie was giggling, turning the shower on every time Trevor frantically turned it off. Alex was writing, _We know what you did, Bobby!_ in the condensation on the mirror.

"Cut it out! Cut it out! It's not funny!" Trevor wailed. He kept turning his head wildly, looking everywhere, trying to find the culprits tormenting him. He was genuinely afraid.

Alex saw Ray first. He gasped, then swiped the words off the mirror with his hand. He shoved his hands in his pockets and tried to look innocent. "Reggie!" he hissed. "Reggie!" 

"What?" Reggie turned, still grinning, then saw Ray and paled. He shut the water off, then teleported over to Alex, putting Alex between himself and Ray. "Uh, hi, Ray! What are you doing here?"

Ray ignored them both, because he knew better than to start talking to thin air. "Trevor, are you okay?"

Trevor yelped and spun around, then slipped on the floor. Luckily he caught his balance, because Ray was too far away to grab him. "Ray," he said breathlessly. "Are you punking me?" He blinked, then glowered. "You're punking me, aren't you?" He clenched his trembling hands into fists. "What've you done to my house? What does this have to do with Sunset Curve? What do you know about them?"

"I haven't done anything to your house, Trevor," Ray said, keeping his voice neutral. He might be angry on the boys' behalf, but he didn't want Trevor to feel threatened on top of already being scared. "I don't know what's going on here any more than you do." That was not completely a lie, since he really didn't understand what the boys were trying to accomplish here. Revenge when the victim couldn't know who was doing it didn't seem worth the effort. "I know about Sunset Curve because one of them was my soulmate. Which I know you know too," he added, and couldn't quite keep the bite out of his voice. "And I'm here to show you something."

"Wh-what?" Trevor kept turning his head, gaze darting around the bathroom.

"Do you have somewhere we can talk?" Ray asked. He definitely didn't want to discuss Trevor's betrayal in a wet bathroom.

Trevor nodded anxiously. "Y-yeah. Come on." He walked around Ray warily, then jogged to the office Luke had gone to town in. "My books!"

Reggie and Alex teleported into the room after them, then Luke teleported over to them. All the movement was really distracting. So was Reggie's enthusiastic retelling of what he and Alex did in the bathroom. "Let's sit down, so I can show you what I found," Ray said loudly, hoping the boys would get the point.

"What about my books?" Trevor dropped heavily to his knees, cradling a leatherbound hardback to his chest. "The cover's bent. This was a first edition!" he moaned.

Ray winced. "I'm sure you can still read it."

"You don't read first edition books!"

Luke sniggered.

Ray shot him a quick glare and he went quiet.

"I think the book I brought might be more important right now. Bobby," he said.

Trevor's attention snapped to Ray at the mention of his original name. Then he saw the black notebook. The book in his hands slid to the floor with a thud.

"We need to talk," Ray said.

Trevor didn't answer. He just slowly got to his feet, then stumbled to the couch and sat down like his legs couldn't support him. He put his hands on his thighs and stared at the far wall. He looked exactly like someone whose entire world had just collapsed.

"I guess you want money," he said tonelessly. "How much?"

"No." Ray sat on the couch, angling his body so it was easier to see Trevor's face. He glanced at the boys, who were clustered together near the bookshelf. They still looked angry, but for the moment at least they were just listening. "Honestly, what I'd really like is to understand why you did it. Why did you steal Luke's songs, Trevor? Why did you take what should have been Sunset Curve's legacy? My soulmate's legacy? Was it for the money?"

Trevor shook his head. "No." It sounded like another moan. "No. It was nothing like that. It had nothing to do with money."

"Yeah, right," Alex scoffed. Reggie and Luke nodded.

Ray flicked his eyes wider at them, hoping they'd get the hint and keep quiet. "That's pretty hard to believe."

"Well, it's the truth," Trevor said. He dropped his head. His face crumpled, and tears squeezed out of the corners of his eyes. "At least, it was. At first. I can't lie, the money's been great." 

"Seems like you can lie pretty well, _Bobby_ ," Reggie said.

Luke shushed him.

"So, what happened at first, if it wasn't the money then?" Ray said.

Trevor sniffled, knuckling his eyes. "You wouldn't understand."

"Maybe not," Ray said, not terribly gently. "But I think your friends' parents might understand it even less."

That finally got some animation out of him. Trevor looked sharply at Ray, but instead of the fear Ray expected in his glistening eyes, there was anger. "Their parents don't deserve a damn cent of that money! Not a damn bit!"

"But you do?"

"No I don't!" Trevor barked. "I know I don't! I never did! But there was no other way!" He threw out his arm, which ironically encompassed the three boys he didn't know were there. "I kept them alive! I kept their music alive! Sunset Curve _had_ a legacy! That was me!"

"That's not true! You stole it!" Luke exploded. "You stole it! My parents never knew those songs were mine!"

"How could you keep their legacy alive if you pretended the songs were yours?" Ray demanded. He glanced at Luke, who was practically shaking with rage. "I had no idea those songs actually belonged to Sunset Curve until I found the notebook." He made sure it was tucked securely under his thigh, so Trevor couldn't grab it.

"I was Sunset Curve!" Trevor shouted. "I was as much Sunset Curve as the rest of them! It's not my fault they died and I didn't! I never asked to be left alone! I never wanted… Oh, God." He dropped his face into his hands, suddenly crying with the great, wracking sobs Ray still remembered from that awful night six years ago. "I never wanted them to die," Trevor wept. "I never wanted it!" He lifted his head to look at Ray with an expression full of incredulous pain. "You think they lost their legacy? I lost _everything_ , that night! I lost everything!" He bowed his head again as he cried.

Ray put his hand on Trevor's back, bewildered. He'd expected defensiveness and guilt, not grief. He looked at the boys, who all looked back at him with the same wild-eyed confusion. "I'm sorry," he said. "That must have been terrible, losing your friends like that."

"We weren't friends," Luke said.

"Yeah." Alex nodded. "He barely tolerated us."

But, "It was the worst thing that ever happened to me," Trevor said. He lifted his head again, wiping his eyes with his hands. "I was so…" He pulled in a shuddering sigh. "I was so honored, when Luke asked me to join the band. I'd only been in Los Feliz a couple months, back in 1994. Barely knew anybody. And then _Luke Patterson_ asks me to be his rhythm guitarist. I thought it had to be a prank. Why the hell would Luke Patterson even look at me?"

The boys all looked at each other in confusion.

"Why wouldn't I?" Luke asked. "He was really good."

"I'm sure if he asked you, it was because he thought you were really good," Ray said.

"Maybe." Trevor shrugged. " _They_ were really good, though. The three of them." He sniffed. "I just did my best to keep up. I mean, my vocals where shit. They kept offering me solo parts, but I wouldn't take 'em. I didn't want to bring the songs down." He made a miserable, wet laugh. "You wouldn't believe how much training I needed before I put out my…the first album."

"That's not true. You sang really well!" Reggie said.

"That's why we offered you solos, you idiot," Luke said. "Why would we offer you solos if you couldn't sing?"

"I'm sure they thought your vocals were fine, otherwise they wouldn't have asked you to sing," Ray said.

Trevor snorted. "That's the thing, though. They were just, nice like that. They were all really nice." He wiped his eyes again. "Always inviting me to hang out, or go to parties or whatever, even though I knew they didn't want me there."

"Of course we wanted you there!" Alex said. He looked at his friends, spreading his hands in confusion. "How could he think we didn't want him there?"

"I think he's really messed up," Reggie whispered loudly.

Ray agreed with him. "So, you wanted to be their friend, but you didn't think they liked you?"

"Yeah. Exactly." Trevor nodded. "Only I know they didn't like me. They put up with me cause I was pretty good on the guitar. And cause I gave them a place to crash when they couldn't stay with their parents anymore." He sniffed. "And because they were nice. They were really nice guys. Nicer than I deserved."

"What's he talking about now?" Alex asked. 

Ray glanced at them and gave a tiny shrug, just as lost as they were. "What do you mean?" he asked Trevor. "Why didn't you deserve it?"

Trevor clasped his hands on his thighs, dropping his head again like a man at confession. "Because I would've…I would've been with any of them. If they'd even looked at me like they wanted it. I, I'd have these dreams, you know? Just, stupid fantasies about Luke being my soulmate. But it could've been any of them." He smiled, but it was thin and painful and he didn't lift his wet eyes from his clasped hands. "I saw Reggie's words once, and I was so fucking jealous. Because if he'd said my words when we met, I know that's what I would've said back to him. Cause it wasn't possible, that someone like him would be interested in a pathetic loser like me."

"You're not pathetic!" Reggie protested.

"Stealing songs is pathetic," Luke said.

"Other than that."

"I don't understand why being attracted to them would make you undeserving of their friendship," Ray said.

"I had no idea," Alex said wonderingly. "I just figured he was straight."

"I told you he was shy," Reggie said.

"Because it wasn't just 'attraction'." Trevor sneered over the word like it was an insult. "I loved them." All three boys gasped. "I loved all of them. They let me be in their band. Let me hang out with them, and I repay them with that? Losing my heart like some lovesick asshole? They didn't want me."

Luke looked stricken. "I would have, if you gave me a chance. You never even gave me a chance, Bobby."

"I think they might have surprised you," Ray said. "But even if they didn't, love is nothing to be ashamed of. I think they'd be happy to know they mattered that much to you."

Trevor shrugged. "Too late now."

That was absolutely true, much as Ray's heart ached for the sad, insecure young man Bobby had been. "Why did you say they were your songs, Trevor?" 

"Like I said, to keep them alive. To keep all of them alive." Trevor looked pleadingly at Ray. "The music was all I had left of them. One copy of the CD we'd made. It was supposed to be our second album."

"What about everything in the studio?"

Trevor blinked and more tears ran down his cheeks. "How do you know about that?"

Ray frowned. "Trevor, your parents sold me and Rose your old house. Didn't you know that? How do you think I found Luke's notebook?"

"Oh." Trevor looked genuinely shocked. "I didn't know that. I haven't talked to my folks in years. I thought you got it off eBay or something."

"What's 'hebay'?" Alex asked.

"I found it in the studio behind my house," Ray explained. "What I guess used to be your garage. The loft was full of clothing and instruments."

"Oh," Trevor said again. "I thought my folks sold it, or threw it out." He lowered his eyes, playing with one of his bracelets. "The songs were all I had left, Ray," he said quietly. "I know I should've said who wrote them. I know I made…I know that wasn't the right thing to do. But, if I'd admitted it, their parents would've gotten the money. And that was just…." His jaw worked, like he was grinding the thought through his teeth. "I went to their funerals, after." His smirk was bitter and dark. "Well, I tried. Alex's parents didn't even have one for him. My mom told me they'd just stuck him in the ground and walked away. Like he'd never even been their kid. Cause he was gay."

Alex made a small, anguished sound and covered his mouth with his hand, eyes shining with tears. Ray clenched his hand over Luke's notebook, to remind himself not to go to him. He couldn't touch him anyway. 

Luke and Reggie wrapped him in their arms.

"That's horrible," Ray said. "He was their son. Who he might have loved didn't change anything about him at all. How could they even think that?" He meant every word, but he said it as much for Alex to hear as Trevor.

Trevor nodded. "They were assholes. One thing I did right, with Carrie, the one fucking thing I did that I'm proud of: she knew right from the start I don't give a damn if she likes girls or boys or both or neither or anyone at all. All that matters is if they treat each other right. That's it."

"Absolutely," Ray said. He patted Trevor's back. 

"Reggie's funeral was private, so I couldn't go to that, either. But my parents took me to the wake, afterwards. His dad got so drunk he could barely walk, and he kept going on and on about how much he loved his boy. How much he missed him. Fucking hypocrite." He looked at Ray again. "You know what that son of a bitch had done to him, the night Reggie finally had enough and cut and ran? He had a bruise, on his face. Like this." Trevor stretched out his hand and put his palm to his cheek. "That dick fucking slapped his son so hard he left a bruise of his whole hand on his face. Couple boot prints on his stomach, too. And when Reggie died his dad had the goddamn balls to cry about it, like he hadn't tried to kill him himself."

"I'm glad Reggie got away from him," Ray said, voice thick. "He sounds like a monster."

"He was," Trevor said.

"He wasn't that bad," Reggie whispered, still holding onto Alex. But even he didn't sound like he believed it.

"Yeah, he was," Luke said. He put his arm across Reggie's back, so Reggie was snugged between Luke and Alex. Luke dropped a kiss on Reggie's hair.

"Luke's funeral was the only one I could go to. The church where they held it wasn't that big, but it was packed," Trevor said admiringly. "I don't know how much family he had, but there were lots of Sunset Curve fans, friends of his from school, even some of his old teachers. It was great. I was so happy for him, that so many people wanted to be there." He swallowed. "But, his dad saw me, and started screaming at me right there, in the church. At the top of his lungs, about how I had no right to be there, since the band was what killed him. That I should be ashamed of myself for daring to show my face. That if it wasn't for the fucking music he'd still be alive. Guy grabbed my collar, and he would've knocked my block off if his brother or somebody hadn't dragged him off me. Someone else hustled me out. The last thing Luke's dad ever said to me was, I should've died too."

"Holy shit," Luke breathed. "My _dad_ did that? My dad almost hit you?"

"Why should I have given any of those fuckers the money, Ray? Huh? Tell me that." Trevor let out a breath and scrubbed his face again. "Maybe Luke's folks. Maybe I should've done it for them. At least they gave a shit about him. But the others…" He shook his head. "I couldn't. How could I share my friends' music with people like that?"

"I don't know," Ray said roughly. He glanced again at the boys: Luke's shock, Reggie's misery and Alex's quiet devastation. "I can understand why you made that decision. But, your friends deserved to be known. Luke wrote those songs, and the others helped compose the music for them. They deserved for the world to know that."

"I worked on them too," Trevor said.

Ray glanced at the boys again. They nodded.

He took a breath. "Trevor, I came here to confront you with this, on behalf of my soulmate and his friends. But I didn't come here to blackmail you. Sunset Curve is dead. Nothing any of us can do will change that. And, given what you said, I agree that Alex's and Reggie's parents don't deserve to profit from what their children created. It seems like Luke's do, even if his father treated you appallingly. I don't know what the right thing to do is, here. But I can tell you that your wholesale profit from other peoples' work is not the right thing."

"Yeah." Trevor swallowed, but he nodded. "You're right. You're right." He sighed. "Carrie's gonna be so upset if we lose the helicopter." 

Ray patted Trevor's back again. "I think Carrie could benefit from some humility."

Trevor huffed out a tiny laugh before he sobered. "Do you think they'd forgive me?" He looked at Ray, his eyes big with uncertainty and pain. "I never meant…I didn't think it'd end up like this. It just…it got away from me. But, it was never about profit, you know? I swear, that wasn't what I wanted when I started this. It was about Luke, and Reggie and Alex. And putting their music out there without their fucking families getting their claws on it." He scrubbed his face again. "I'm sorry. For what it's worth. I'm really, really sorry. I wish I could tell them that." He sighed, dropped his hands back to his thighs. "I wish I could ask for their forgiveness."

"I forgive you," Reggie said. There were tears in his eyes.

"Me too." Alex was hugging himself, expression bleak.

"Yeah," Luke said. "I forgive you, Bobby. I just wish you'd ever said how you felt."

"I'm sure they'd forgive you, Trevor," Ray said.

* * *

They could've just poofed back to the house, but they all looked at each other and basically decided to ride home with Ray without talking about it. He didn't even look surprised.

Alex had a lot of stuff in his head, after everything Trevor had told Ray. He figured Reggie did too. The quiet darkness of the car ride seemed better than the bright studio to think about it.

He sat hunched in on himself in the back seat. He kind of wanted to cry, but he hadn't yet. He wasn't sure if it was cause, deep down, he'd expected his parents to reject him, or if it just hurt so bad he couldn't even really feel it yet. Like how sometimes cuts only started stinging when you noticed them.

Maybe it was both. 

He'd thought his parents loved him. But they'd only loved him when they thought he was straight. And maybe he'd figured that out already, when they'd told him to either stop "living that disgusting lifestyle"—like it'd been a choice—or leave.

He'd cried when he left, and he'd been blue for weeks afterwards. Maybe in the end he just didn't have any more tears to shed over them.

"Seatbelts," Ray said, then grimaced. "Never mind." He started the car and they rolled down the very long driveway. Ray pressed the button to open the gate.

Alex looked through the back window at the house. Most of the lights were still on, but it didn't look grand and luxurious anymore. It just looked empty and lonely.

"That's so much space for just two people," Reggie said, like he'd been thinking the same thing.

"Yeah," Alex said. Julie's house was a lot cozier.

"You had our backs there," Luke said quietly. Ray had put his black notebook on the passenger seat, and Luke was basically clutching it to his chest. It was like he was worried Bobby might take it.

"Of course I did," Ray said. He kept his eyes on the dark road ahead of them. "Trevor took your work and pretended it was his own. You couldn't confront him about it, so I did."

"I thought you were just gonna scold us and send us home," Luke said.

Alex saw the side of Ray's mouth twitch up in a brief smile. "Oh, I'm still thinking about scolding the three of you, believe me. That stunt you pulled was irresponsible and potentially dangerous. What if he'd slipped in his bathroom and been badly hurt? Or fallen down the stairs?"

"That wouldn't have happened," Luke protested. "We didn't even break anything. Just messed up some of his sh—stuff."

"Bobby did almost fall in the bathroom, though," Alex admitted.

"I know none of you actually intended to hurt him," Ray said. "I just wish you'd thought it through a little more. What if he realized it was actually the ghosts of his former bandmates, and decided to get someone to…I don't know, force you from existence? Or an exorcist?"

"Like that movie?" Reggie's eyes went very wide, shining in the passing streetlights.

"Can people do that? Get rid of ghosts?" Alex hunched in on himself a little more, remembering Julie shoving the cross at them. At the time it'd just been weird and a little hurtful. Now he was wondering if they'd been lucky she hadn't managed to banish them or something. He wondered what would've happened if she had, then decided he didn't want to think about it.

"Exorcism's just for demons," Luke said, but he sounded a little nervous too. He clutched his notebook more tightly.

"There are people who say they can get rid of ghosts," Ray explained. "I don't know if it's possible or not, but considering I wasn't sure ghosts were real until very recently, I'm willing to bet it is. And I'd hate for Trevor to get any ideas." He let out a breath. "My point is, I don't think messing up his home was worth it, considering the risks. Especially since I'm sure he had no idea why it was happening. I doubt that could have been very satisfying for you."

"It was!" Reggie said, then made a face. "It kinda was? Until he said he was in love with Luke. Then I just felt bad."

"He was in love with all of us," Luke said. He leaned his head on the window, looking out at the night. "I don't get it. Why wouldn't he say anything? Like, ever? Why was he so sure we'd reject him?"

"I wouldn't've minded if he'd told me," Reggie said. "I mean, I'm straight, but I wouldn't've minded."

"I wouldn't have either," Alex said softly. He couldn't quite manage to speak up, even though he'd heard everything Ray said to Trevor in the house. He'd been so scared when Trevor had said he was gay; He'd been sure Ray would be just as shocked and upset as his parents had been. But Ray wasn't.

Ray said Alex's parents were wrong. Ray would have never have kicked Alex out for being gay. He would have still loved him.

Alex couldn't understand that. The only people who hadn't minded were Luke, Reggie, Bobby, and then Julie. And Ray was a dad. Didn't every parent want their kids to be normal?

For a moment, he envied Julie so much it hurt.

"I don't think Trevor has ever felt worthy of love, or even friendship," Ray said. He turned briefly to Luke. "It's very sad, especially since it sounds like he missed out on you and Alex."

"How come…how come you don't mind?" Alex asked Ray.

He saw Ray blink in the rearview mirror. "Mind what?"

"That I'm gay," Alex said.

"Oh, that's cause I already told him about you guys," Reggie said breezily.

" _What?_ " Alex stared at him in openmouthed horror.

Luke turned around to glare at him. "Reggie! Dude! The hell?"

Reggie shrank back against the door. "We were just talking! He's my soulmate! You tell soulmates stuff!"

"Not other people's stuff!" Luke snapped.

"We were both teasing Alex in front of Julie!" Reggie said, defensive now. "How come that was okay?"

"That was different! It was Julie!" Luke said.

It hadn't been, actually. It was just, his friends had started ribbing him too fast for Alex to make them stop. And he'd been terrified of how she'd react; if she'd go tell her dad and he'd kick Alex out the way his parents did. But then Julie had acted like it was perfectly normal. Like Luke and Reggie were teasing Alex about a girl. And then Flynn had said she was bisexual, and she and Julie were best friends. So he'd been able to relax.

But Reggie had told Ray without Alex even knowing.

"Reggie, your friends are right," Ray said. "You shouldn't just talk about other peoples' personal lives. That information is private, and you need to respect that. I know you meant no harm," he added quickly, because Reggie's eyes had gone liquid and miserable. "But please keep that in mind for the future." Ray moved his eyes so for a moment they met Alex's in the rearview mirror. "As for why I don't mind, it's because there's nothing _to_ mind. I meant every word I said back there. The only thing that matters about who you love is how you treat them, and how they treat you. That goes for you too, Luke," he added, glancing at him. "Your sexuality is part of you, but it doesn't define you, and it absolutely doesn't diminish you. I am so sorry your parents couldn't see that, Alex."

Alex bit his lip. He didn't know why Ray saying something nice meant he was suddenly fighting tears, when his own parents not even giving him a funeral hadn't. "But, parents want normal kids."

"You are normal." Ray said it so fiercely that Alex blinked, concerned for a second Ray was mad at him. "Being born gay, or bi- or pansexual is the same as being born with blond hair or green eyes. They're not as common as other traits, but there is absolutely _nothing_ abnormal about them. Do you understand?"

Alex nodded. He wasn't sure he believed it, but he did understand.

"I never told my folks," Luke said. He shrugged like he didn't care when Ray glanced at him again, but Alex could tell by the set of his jaw that Luke did. "I mean, they already hated my being a musician. I didn't want them to hate me 'cause I don't just like girls."

"I hope they wouldn't have," Ray said. "I hope they would have seen you for the person you are, and understood that attraction has nothing to do with that." He sighed. "I'm sorry they didn't approve of your career choice, either. The three of you have survived a hell of a lot, haven't you?"

"Not sure if 'survived' is the right word," Alex said.

"Overcome, then," Ray said seriously. "Personally, I'm incredibly proud of all three of you."

Luke straightened and stared at Ray like he'd never seen him before.

"Really?" Reggie looked stunned.

"Absolutely, Mijo." Ray gave him a quick smile in the rearview mirror. "I mean it. I'm proud of you. You, Luke and Alex."

"Thanks," Luke said carefully, like he wasn't sure he could accept it.

Alex didn't know what to say, so he didn't say anything. He'd been kicked out, lived in Bobby's garage, helped make a band, and then died in one of the dumbest ways possible. That didn't feel like 'overcoming' very much. But it was a nice thing to say.

Ray cleared his throat. "Anyway, it's also possible your parents might be more accepting of you now than they used to be. Attitudes have changed in the last 25 years. Same-sex marriage is legal now, for example."

Alex gasped. He could get _married?_ He could actually _get married?_ To a _guy?_

"Holy cow, Alex!" Reggie reached across the seat and towed Alex into an awkward hug. "That's so cool! You and Willie can get married!"

"He's a ghost, Reg—gah!" Luke's reminder turned into a cry as Ray almost swerved into the wrong lane.

Ray corrected the car immediately, then checked behind him and drove onto the shoulder. He clicked on the emergency lights, and then just sat there, holding the steering wheel and breathing.

"Mr. Molina? Are you okay?" Reggie asked.

"Yes. Sorry, Mijo." Ray let out one more breath, and then unbuckled his seatbelt so he could turn around to look at the two of them. "Did you say Alex could marry someone named Willie?"

Reggie nodded worriedly. "Yes? He's his soulmate."

"Soulmate." Ray whispered. He swallowed, then licked his lips. "What does Willie…" He grimaced. "What did you say to him? Your words," he explained when Alex just blinked. "Please. I know it's rude to ask, but...what were they?"

"Um. I think I said, 'I dinged your board'? You ran me over,'" Alex said, a little unnerved. 

"My God," Ray breathed. "Oh, my God." He blinked a few times, eyes focused far away. "That explains it. That's why. Oh, my God."

"What does it explain? What's wrong?" Luke asked.

Reggie slid across the seat so he was pressed against Alex's side. "Do you know Alex's soulmate?"

Ray nodded distantly. "He was my best friend, when I was a child. He died when I was 11. I knew he was a ghost…well, I thought he might be. I wasn't sure. But, I could hear him, sometimes. And he visited Julie and Carlos when they were little. But today I was able to see him. For the first time in 34 years."

"Why?" Alex asked, bewildered. 

"I don't know," Ray said. "But I think, it's because he's my friend. So, you and I, we're both connected to him. All of us are connected to each other, somehow. Like…a web. Some kind of web."

"That's crazy." Luke sounded awed.

"A soulmate web," Reggie said. 

"Is it okay? That I'm his soulmate?" Alex asked. Because Ray was so shocked and quiet, he wasn't sure.

"What?" Ray blinked and he was with them in the car again. "Oh! Mijo, of course! Of course it's okay!" His expression softened, and he smiled. "No, it's great! It's wonderful. I'm so happy for both of you. He—" He stopped and his eyes suddenly widened, like he was afraid. "Alex," he said, clipped and urgent, "did he tell you about the Hollywood Ghost Club? Where he works?"

"Yeah." Alex nodded jerkily, worried again. "He took me there. We—"

"He _took_ you there?" Ray groaned in something like helpless anger before Alex could answer. He said something in Spanish that sounded like swearing, then smacked the back of the seat, hard enough of make all of them jump. "Alex," he said, just as urgent, then looked at Luke and Reggie as well. "Promise me, you will not go back there. Not even if Willie wants you to. Promise me."

Reggie was already nodding, and Alex wanted to as well, just to keep Ray from being angry.

But, "Why not?" Luke said, frowning. Of all of them, he was always the most willing to fight.

"Because Willie told me the ghost who…" Ray grimaced. "Who owns him, Caleb…He said Caleb hurts him. And Willie strongly implied he can't leave."

"He can't leave?" Alex parroted. "But, he loves it there."

"They had cake," Reggie said.

"I'm telling you what he told me, in an alleyway off Vine street, just this evening," Ray said tightly. "Caleb hurts him if he does something he doesn't like, and he can't leave. He said he can't be around me or the kids, because he's worried Caleb will find out about it. And hurt him."

"Holy shit," Luke said. He looked at Alex. "Why the hell would he take you there?"

"The heart wants stupid things," Reggie said.

"I don't know!" Alex hugged himself, pressing back against the seat and away from all of them. "He said he wanted to share it with me. He said…he said Caleb was really cool."

"I'm sure he has his reasons," Ray said quickly. "But they're not important. What's important is keeping you safe. Please." He looked at all of them, holding each of them with his gaze. "Please. Promise me you won't go there. Any of you. That you'll have nothing to do with Caleb. I can't help Willie. There's nothing I can do for him. But I can help you. So I'm begging you, please promise me you won't go there. I can't stand the thought of you being hurt."

"I promise I won't go to the Hollywood Ghost Club," Reggie said.

"I promise too," Luke said.

"Me too," Alex said.

"Promise me," Ray said. "Say it. Promise me you won't go."

Alex swallowed. "I promise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, Squeaky. Best Alpha ever. ♥
> 
> #RedemptionForBobby


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Sometimes hope just felt like a kinder way to list everything that terrified you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super thanks to [Squeaky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squeaky/pseuds/Squeaky), who really helped Alpha-whip this chapter into shape. She is working on three more stories in this fandom. I can't wait 'til you all can read them too. :D (But please also read this one.)

Willie loved skate parks at night.

He always had, though now he didn't have to worry about security chasing him off anymore. He loved how there was no sound in the hush of night, other than the rattle of his trucks and wheels, his laughter and low grunts of effort. He loved the cool of the darkness around him, soft and serene beyond the glow of the overhead lights. And he'd always, especially, loved how he wasn't supposed to be there.

That went double now, in a way. It wasn't like the Lifers knew he was there, but he was still breaking the rules. And he was dead; technically he wasn't supposed to be anywhere at all.

Well, maybe heaven.

That made Willie laugh louder, cause he was kind of breaking that rule, too.

He did a 5-0 grind with the back truck of the board along the concrete ledge shaped like a crooked caterpillar. He wobbled a bit at the end, but there was nobody around to see. He did a kickturn back to the ledge to do a nose grind, which went better, then did another kickturn to go back yet again. This time he ollied onto the ledge, going fast enough to catch some air at the top of the small ramp.

He whooped, which turned into a yell as Alex was suddenly right where Willie was going to land.

Alex dove to the side as Willie apported to where Alex wasn't, then immediately fell on his ass when he and his board dropped straight down. Apporting didn't get along with inertia. Willie had no idea why, but it'd ended up with him eating dirt more than once.

"Ow," Alex complained as he pushed himself up to his knees. Then, "Willie!"

Willie, on his back with one heel still forlornly on the board deck, watched Alex scramble to his feet and run over to him, only to crash back to his knees. That had to hurt. Probably not as much as falling on his ass again, but still. It looked painful.

"Willie! Are you okay?"

Willie coughed, then grinned weakly at him. "We got to stop meeting like this, Hotshot."

Alex's worried scowl was cute. "That's not funny." He gently moved Willie's foot off his skateboard, then pulled him upright like he was made of Lego. Then Alex patted Willie down in a way he could only assume was checking for broken bones. "Are you all right?"

Willie took in his flushed cheeks, mussed hair and the pretty blue of Alex's wide, worried eyes. He laughed, just cause it was so adorable. "I'm fine. I'm fine, really. You can quit it, House."

"House?"

"Never mind." Now Alex looked confused, as well as worried and scowly. Willie couldn't stop grinning at him; he was so freaking cute. "You got some dirt on your cheek." Alex didn't actually, but it gave Willie an excuse to touch his face. He pretended to wipe it away with his thumb. "There you go." He booped Alex's nose, because he really wanted to kiss it, and then kiss Alex's lips too. "Hi."

Alex blinked at the boop, then smiled back, looking like he didn't quite want to but couldn't stop himself. "I found you, like you taught me."

That made Willie full-on beam at him, proud. "You totally did!" He lifted one hand for a high-five. That made Alex blush a little for some reason, but he returned it. "Only next time maybe not quite so close, huh?" Willie laughed.

Alex's smile collapsed. "I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to end up right in front of you like that."

"Hey! No worries, Hotshot." Willie booped him again, because he could. "That's just practice. You'll figure it out. You already apported right to where I was. That was excellent."

"Thanks." Alex looked around, then got to his feet. "Do you come here a lot?" He extended his hand.

Willie took it and let Alex help pull him up. He dusted himself off. "Not really. It's one of my places, but it's kind of small." He winked. "I still prefer Justin Bieber's empty pool."

"I know who that is now," Alex said happily. "Ray taught me how to use the internet." He shoved his hands in his pockets, not smiling anymore. "Actually, that's why I wanted to talk to you tonight." He looked like he didn't know whether to be pissed off or just worried again. "Why didn't you tell me Caleb hurts you?"

Willie backed up a step then picked up his board, mostly just to buy himself a couple seconds to figure out how the hell he was going to get out of this. He took off his helmet for the same reason, then shook his hair out. Alex's eyes flicked to it immediately—Alex really liked his hair—but Willie could see that wasn't going to distract him. Damn it. "Who's Ray?" he tried, smiling as disarmingly as possible. 

"Ray is the guy you've been haunting since you died. And he knows what your soulmark says, so don't try to bullshit me," Alex snapped. "He saw you just a couple hours ago, for the first time in over 30 years. Julie's his daughter, which I know you know too. We're not talking about them. We're talking about your boss hurting you and you not mentioning it!"

Willie winced. No way he was talking himself out of this one. For a hot second he considered just apporting away, but Alex knew how to find him now, so that wasn't going to work. And Willie wanted to keep seeing Alex anyway. He really wanted to keep seeing him. "I wasn't sure they were the same people at first," he admitted. "Seriously!" he added at Alex's flinty expression. "You mentioned Julie, but you didn't talk about Ray until a bit after that. There are lots of Julie's in L.A., man."

"Fine," Alex said, clipped. "Great. So you weren't totally lying about everything." That hurt, but Willie figured he deserved it. "What about Caleb?"

Willie almost tried, "What about Caleb?" and another disarming smile. But one look at Alex's set jaw and narrowed eyes and he gave up. He took a breath, running his fingers through his hair. He looked around, suddenly unnerved by the silence surrounding them. "Can we go somewhere else? I promise I'll explain. I just, I don't want to be out in the open like this."

"Yeah, sure," Alex said, obviously alarmed. "Do you want to come back—"

"No!" Willie said, too quick and too loudly. "Not Ray's house, okay? I can't go there."

Alex blinked, but then he nodded to himself. "Right," he said softly, like he was remembering something. "Where, then?"

Willie had to force a smile. "I know a place." He held out his hand.

He was grateful when Alex only hesitated for a second before he took it.

* * *

They appeared in a modern art museum. Alex realized where they were and immediately slapped his hands over his ears, scrunching up his face as he waited for the scream of the alarms. But nothing happened.

Well, nothing happened except Willie laughing at him.

Alex opened one eye then the other, then finally dropped his hands when it was obvious nothing was going to happen other than Willie busting a gut as his expense. "Jerk," he muttered. He spotted an ugly concrete bench and sat down on it, leaning back on his hands. "Why did you lie to me about Caleb?"

Willie put his board down on the raised floor next to the bench, then balanced his helmet on top of it. He sat next to Alex, pulling up one leg and crossing his arms on top of his knee. He rested his chin on his crossed arms. "What did Ray tell you, other than that he saw me?"

"He said you were his best friend, and you'd died when he was a kid. And that you didn't want to see him or his kids much anymore, because Caleb didn't like it." Alex licked his lips, wondering how they could feel dry when he didn't need to breathe. "And that Caleb hurts you."

Willie nodded, then lifted his head to look at Alex. "Caleb doesn't like me talking to Lifers outside the club, so he can't know about Ray and Julie. And I didn't tell you I knew them because, it's safer that way. Caleb…he finds stuff out. So the less anyone knows, the better."

"You said you love where you work. You said Caleb was really cool." Willie hadn't used those words, but they were close enough. Alex could remember the pride and admiration on Willie's face. It didn't make sense. "But, Ray said you couldn't leave. And Caleb hurts you. Why can't you leave, Willie? What does he do?"

"It doesn't matter," Willie said, way too quickly. "It barely ever happens, anyway. Just if I break the rules." He smiled again, big and bright and so beautiful on his handsome face. Alex could see how fake it was. "Did you really find me just to talk about my boss?"

"Yes I did!" Alex sat up so it was easier to face him. "This is important, Willie! Your boss hurts you! It doesn't matter why, nobody's supposed to do that! And why can't you leave? And why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't tell you cause I didn't want to fight about it!" Willie shot back. He scooped hair out of his face and tucked it behind his ear. "It's my choice to be there, all right? I knew…I knew what the deal was going in, and I said 'yes' anyway. I knew what would happen if I broke the rules." He turned his head away, leaning his chin back on his arms. "The pain only lasts a couple minutes anyhow."

"A couple _minutes?_ "

Willie shrugged, but he was still looking away. "Only if I've done something really bad."

"Like what?" Alex asked, horrified. "Willie, like what? What's a really bad thing?" He put his hand on Willie's back.

He'd just been trying to get his attention. But Willie flinched with his entire body, then sprang to his feet and whirled to stare at Alex wild-eyed.

Alex froze. "Willie?" he asked softly, "Willie? Are you okay?"

Willie stared at him for what felt like a scarily long time, like he didn't recognize him. Then he blinked, blinked again, and then finally relaxed. He closed his eyes tight and rubbed his face. His hand was shaking. "Sorry." He dropped his hand and smiled again, but it was weak. "Just lost my train of thought for a second."

"Yeah, sure," Alex said quickly. He stood up and helped Willie back to the bench, because Willie was still shaking.

He that wasn't a lost train of thought. It actually reminded Alex a lot more of himself: all the times he got so anxious he couldn't deal anymore. 

When Willie was on the bench again, Alex sat behind him with his legs on either side, and wrapped him in his arms. "Is this okay?" He was asking because when he got anxious he didn't always like to be touched. And also because he wasn't sure if Willie would want another guy to touch him like this. Alex didn't really think it'd be a problem—even straight guys liked hugs sometimes, right?—and most of the time Alex liked it when he got held for a while, after one of his anxiety things. It made him feel safe.

But still. It was always better to make sure.

Willie nodded, and Alex relaxed. Willie gave a thin wisp of a smirk. "If I'd known all I had to do to get a hug was freak out for a minute, I would've done it when we first met."

"Next time just ask," Alex said. He couldn't even try to make it sound like a joke. He held Willie a bit more tightly.

He really liked hugging him. And if Willie liked it too…

That was a lot. A lot to think about. Around the time Alex came out to his band, he'd already figured he and his soulmate would be lovers, not friends. But that didn't make the idea of it any less frightening. It was a good kind of frightening, like a rollercoaster, but even the good kind of fear was still fear.

And there was still part of him that wasn't even sure Willie did want him like that. Alex had never been in a relationship before. He hadn't even known Bobby wasn't straight, let alone interested in him. What if he'd gotten everything with Willie all wrong too?

It was a lot easier just to keep hugging him and try not to worry about it.

Willie leaned his head back against Alex's shoulder. His hair tickled Alex's cheek. "I wasn't lying about the Hollywood Ghost Club," he said. "I do love it there. You met my friends, right? And the music, the atmosphere…" Alex could hear the smile inch back into his voice. "Everyone's dressed to the nines and they're all so happy…it's amazing. There's nowhere like it in the world."

"Okay," Alex said.

"And." Willie licked his lips. "It's so much better than being alone. You have no idea what it's like, to be a ghost and alone."

"No, I don't," Alex said softly. It was easy to imagine, though: wandering through a city full of people, but none of them could hear, touch or see you. Alex had felt like that often enough when he'd been alive, hiding who he really was from the world. It'd been awful. But trying to survive when no one even _could_ respond, not ever, would be hell. "I think I'd go crazy."

"Yeah. Well. Join the club." Willie let out another bloodless smirk. "I mean, don't. Don't join the club. But, I joined the Hollywood Ghost Club so I wouldn't be alone anymore. And, it's heaven, compared to that. Like, it's literally cake or death. The outside world is death, but in the club I get to have cake."

"It was good cake," Alex said. He didn't know what Willie was talking about, exactly, but he could get the gist. "The club keeps you from being lonely."

"Yeah," Willie said. "It's…bad for a ghost to be alone." He shuddered.

"I'm glad you're not alone." Alex tilted his head to lean it against Willie's, just a little bit. "I'm glad you've got the club, and your friends. I'm just worried."

"Don't be, Hotshot. I'm just fine." Willie bent his arms so he could put his hands over Alex's wrists. He chuckled, and it sounded a lot more real. "I got you too, now, right? I mean, you're my soulmate. You're kind of supposed to be my friend." He chuckled, but he squeezed Alex's wrists a little, like he was trying to hold him there.

"I am your friend," Alex said. He wanted to be more than just Willie's friend, and he was pretty sure Willie wanted that too. But, that was a lot. And he didn't quite have the courage to go there yet. So he didn't.

Being Willie's friend was still really good, though. Especially when it meant he could hold him like this.

Willie made a face. "I'm getting a crick in my neck." He lifted his head, but stayed in Alex's arms. "Just, promise me something, okay?"

"Yeah, of course," Alex said.

"Promise me, if you ever meet Caleb…if he offers you a job, you don't take it. Okay? Not you or your friends. All right?"

"I promise I won't take a job offer from Caleb," Alex said. It was an easy enough promise to make; it wasn't like he wanted a job anyway. He wanted to make music with Luke, Reggie and Julie.

"Dynamite." Willie sounded so relieved, Alex had to hug him a little more tightly.

It was on the tip of his tongue to say he'd already promised Ray he wouldn't go back to the Hollywood Ghost Club. He didn't, though, because he was pretty sure Willie would want to take him there again, and Willie had already gone through that…whatever it was, where he kind of stopped being there for a moment. So Alex didn't want to upset him again, not when he could still feel Willie trembling a tiny bit in his arms. If Willie did invite him to the club another time, Alex would deal with it then.

Besides, he had something a lot better to talk about, even if the thought suddenly made him nervous as hell. "I didn't just want to find you because of Caleb and the Ghost Club, by the way." He wondered if Willie could feel how hard his heart was beating. "Julie And The Phantoms are performing at Julie's high school dance tomorrow night. Would you like to come? I mean, just if you don't have anything better to do." He let out a breath, amazed he'd managed to get all of that out without saying something stupid.

Willie gently moved Alex's arms, then turned around so he was kneeling on the bench, straddling Alex's thighs. Willie put his hands on Alex's shoulders, and Alex automatically wrapped his arms around him again, so Willie wouldn't fall backwards.

"Are you inviting me on a date, Hotshot?" He was taller than Alex like this, grinning wickedly down at him.

Alex had to lean back to properly see his face. He was sure his was embarrassingly red, and his heart was going even faster. Alex almost blurted out, "It's not a date! It's just a casual friend thing!" Except, Willie looked happy it was a date. Like that was maybe what he wanted it to be. So, "Do you… Is that okay? If it's a date?" Alex asked instead. His lips twitched in an aborted wince. So much for not saying anything stupid.

Whatever Willie saw on his face made his grin soften to something warm and sweet. "Yes. It's okay if it's a date, Alex. It's really, really okay."

* * *

Alex invited Willie to the Julie And The Phantoms concert at her high school dance.

Ray had no idea Alex had done that. He'd only found out about it while he was driving Julie and Flynn home. Both girls were still so hyped they were all but yelling as they talked over each other, giving their enthusiastic play-by-play of the evening. They were practically vibrating in their chairs.

Ray loved it. He hadn't seen Julie that excited in a long time.

Julie had managed to tell him she'd been able to see Willie, which was both surprising and not. She said he'd looked familiar, and she had a vague memory of playing with him as a child. It was obvious she liked him. Ray was happy to hear that.

Apparently he and Alex had danced together, though Alex was nervous until Willie reminded him nobody could see.

Ray was happy for them. He just hoped the boys kept their promise not to go to the Ghost Club. Especially Alex, since he had the most incentive to break it of the three of them. He hoped Willie didn't get punished for being at the dance. He hoped Alex would stop being afraid of being in love.

Sometimes hope just felt like a kinder way to list everything that terrified you.

Just like Ray hoped Flynn's and Julie's obvious infatuation with the other two ghost boys wouldn't actually end as badly as he knew it would.

Ray remembered keenly from his own teen experience that infatuation didn't tend to last. But he also keenly remembered how somebody always got hurt anyway. Adding intangibility to the mix—hell, Flynn couldn't even _see_ Reggie, and could only hear him if he was singing—just made the likelihood of somebody ending up hurting worse. And Ray had a bad feeling the somebodies would be Julie and Flynn.

Not that Ray thought Luke and Reggie didn't care, or wouldn't. He knew both of them well enough already to be fairly sure they returned the girls' feelings. He'd seen Reggie's face when Reggie mentioned Flynn, and he'd seen how Luke looked at his daughter.

It was just, the boys were dead.

Ray had called Tony Stark because Luke, Reggie and Alex needed to move on. Talking to Willie only underscored just how vital it was they did. The longer they stayed on Earth, the more likely they would end up like that empty woman Ray had seen in the alleyway. They deserved so much better than to become an endless, freezing reiteration of their death. Even if it wouldn't happen for decades, knowing that was the boys' fate was too awful to think about. 

And of course the Hollywood Ghost Club was out of the question.

There was no future, for Flynn and Reggie or Julie and Luke. Not on Earth. Ray wasn't sure there was a future for Alex and Willie either, since Willie was trapped and Alex wasn't. 

There was no future for Ray and Reggie. It didn't matter how easily Ray could imagine Reggie as his eldest kid, or how much of his younger self he saw in him. Reggie had to move on.

The best, the only, thing Ray could do for all of them was make sure they got to move on.

He listened to Julie and Flynn as they laughed and shouted and sang bits of Julie And The Phantoms songs, thrilled for their triumph and delighting in their joy. And all the while his heart quietly broke for each of them. Because he knew how ephemeral this moment was, and how few of them were left.

* * *

**PROB WANT TO SEE THIS**

**Hi.**

**Per our conversation re you see dead people, I texted my friend. He sent me back something cryptic which basically said he'd get to it when he gets to it. He can occasionally be a real asshole but we keep him around cause hes fun at parties.**

**Anyway, because unlike him I actually want to help, I had JARVIS – tHAT's my computer friend – do some searches on ghosts, SunsetCurve, your freaky houseguests, afterlife, etc etc etc. J did not find anything useful, but he did did end up finding a video which is attached.**

**Problemo: The video is off YouTube, and it says 'SUPER COOL HOLOGRAM BAND!!!!' Only, my co makes the most sophisticated holograms in the world, and those are not holograms. You need either a room set up with multiple projectors, or a bunch of flying projector drones to get images that move around in 3d like that. There is zilch on screen. I mean, that is a highschool gym stage. Los Feliz hs is pretty rich, but I don't think they have $10 mil laying around for audio-visual.**

**I mean I could be wrong. But the single projector we can see with the cameraphone vid wouldn't do anything like thos boys dancing around. So Julies' phantoms are real life phantoms. So to speak.**

**Just fyi.**

**Tony**

**Author's Note:**

> I am on [Tumblr!](https://taste-is-sweet.tumblr.com/)


End file.
